July 26, 2010

By Tim Brownson, Certified Life Coach & Published Author

A number of years ago, I was flying from Miami to London with my wife after a vacation to the U.S. It was the first time we had flown after 9/11, and airport security was ramped up as you would imagine. The lines were horrendous and not helped by the fact that most people didn’t really know what was expected of them, us included.

For as long as I can remember, I had a habit of carrying my toiletries bag and a change of underwear in my hand luggage just in case my main cases went missing. On this particular day, as every other, there was a Swiss Army Knife in my toiletry bag. I’d carried it around with me for over three decades ever since I’d been given it as a present by my parents for my 10th birthday.

It had all sorts of weird and wonderful tools I seldom used, like a thing for getting things out of things and another pointy thing that looked like it was designed to pluck out the eyeball out of the snoring drunk sitting next to you on a long-haul flight.

However, about the only things I ever used on the Swiss Army Knife were the scissors, for doing my poorly manicured fingernails, and a blade for stabbing myself in the leg to keep myself awake during very boring sales meetings.

On this particular day, I was forced to sheepishly take the knife out due to the flashing lights and sirens being set off during the security checks. It was a while before it dawned on me that my errant knife being spotted going through the x-ray machine was the cause of all the commotion and the reason the line had suddenly ground to an unceremonious halt directly in front of me.

It was too late to check it into our main cases as they had long since gone for their annual kicking by underpaid grudge-bearing baggage handlers, so I reluctantly had to hand it over to security. My wife was distraught. She knew how long I’d had the knife and what she thought it meant to me, especially as my father had passed away the previous year. I wasn’t particularly happy, but at the same time I wasn’t overly concerned because after all, it was only a knife.

She couldn’t understand why I wasn’t devastated and I really couldn’t understand why she was. People often get far too attached to material objects like this for ‘sentimental’ reasons and it isn’t very helpful. I am not suggesting that we never keep items that may be valuable and are passed down through generations, but the point is this: 

The object is not the person that gave it to you.

Every “thing” on the planet will at some stage in history cease to be – it’s simply a matter of time because nothing lasts forever. If you lose something, break something or have something of sentimental value stolen, you have two options open to you…

1) You can feel annoyed and/or down about it and maybe even have some sleepless nights and pointless “what if” conversations with yourself.

2) Or you can decide to remember the people and emotions that you had attached to that object with fondness, safe in the knowledge that nobody can take your memories away from you.

I suggest the latter option.

About the Author
Tim Brownson is an English Professional Life Coach, NLP Master Practitioner and author living in Orlando, Florida. He is currently involved in a unique project to give away 1,000,000 copies of the hard copy version of the critically acclaimed book he has co-authored called “How To Be Rich and Happy.”

Read more of Tim Brownson’s life coaching articles.

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