I have always been keenly aware of social class. As a child I could see the invisible lines that separated me from my teachers: people from the other side of the tracks. No one talked about these divisions but they were real none the less. Most everyone else I knew was poor. More than anything else that is what defined us. I have always viewed those with wealth with curiosity more than envy.
Over the last few days I have stayed in the home of people who are, if not wealthy, clearly comfortable. I have observed a few things. They possess many beautiful objects. Something about the way they are displayed says to me that they are meant for display, to make an impression on others. It must take a lot of time and effort to decide just what to purchase and how it should be presented to the world.
There are complicated gadgets and widgets in this home that I recognize only by function: a Swiss made washing machine and dryer with buttons and dials that seem, well, foreign; a coffee maker that has a fourteen-page instruction manual and makes one cup at a time; facets that have three separate knobs for adjusting temperature, pressure and location; door locks that require a specific series of manipulations to coax that bolt into place. These items all seem unnecessarily complicated.
Being rich is hard work. Just as there is a fine line between simplicity and poverty, there is a certain complexity associated with wealth. The difference comes down to choice. Whereas we may not choose poverty, we can opt for simplicity. Likewise, even if wealth is thrust upon us we need not succumb to the complexities.
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