Today, try this: Look at something you want but don’t need. Feel the baby-lust—the pull, the fantasy of possession. Then, without shaming yourself, turn your gaze to something you already have that is good. Breathe. Stay there for ten seconds longer than is comfortable.
So what is the cure? Not starvation. Not asceticism. But weaning .
That small space—between the wanting and the looking away—is where you grow up.
is the itch to acquire without the maturity to ask why . It’s the dopamine hit of a package on the porch, the high of a new notification, the phantom pleasure of "saving" a post we’ll never read again. It mistakes looking for loving, and wanting for having.
Because the world will always dangle another shine. But you don’t have to stay in the cradle forever.
But the eye never says enough . The scroll has no bottom. The newborn, even after being held, still reaches for the light.
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