There’s nothing like a move to make you realize how much stuff you have.

Boxes and bags. Couches and beds. Certainly more clothes than I need (but I waaaant them).

I have to admit, I feel a little guilty when I look around. Er, well, maybe guilty isn’t the right word. Maybe what I mean is that I feel aware. Aware that I have been blessed beyond reason. Aware that much has been afforded to me based on my race and socioeconomic status alone. Aware that I am an integral part of an interconnected web of which I owe as much of my success to as my own individual efforts. Aware that much of my stuff is the product of human exploitation, and aware that I have more than I need while others in my immediate community do not even have food.

Does this mean I am immediately purging my closet and dedicating myself to a frugal life in blatant rejection of capitalism, consumerism and materialism?

Well, no, not exactly. Maybe I should. It would be an interesting challenge.

No, sometimes I like stuff. Just check out my shoe collection. I am as much a zombie of consumption as the rest of America.

But at least I am aware of the dangers of reckless greed. And at least I can look at my boxes piled high and recognize the privilege I come from.

And although I have a ways to go when it comes to truly living a life dedicated to social justice, love and peace….

Awareness is the first step….and maybe even the most important.