The problem with having expensive things is loosing them.
I got a nice hat recently. A part of myself felt like I was the character in Bob Dylan’s song, the one with the leopard skin pillbox hat. I felt cool in my wool, tweed brown, bowler hat with feathers on the side. I put it down on subway seat next to me, waiting for the Q train and took the train to the City. I only realized that it was gone when I was crossing Manhattan Bridge. I wonder who is wearing my hat now. And I wonder if they feel as cool as me. Maybe even more, because they got it for free.
It’s only a material possesion, I thought, but how much better would it be to walk into the party with my special hat on.
The ego is a powerful dream that gives stregth and torture.