Last summer my father gave me a ring, one my grandpa gave to him when he was my age. My grandpa picked up the ring while on duty in Lebanon (he was a career Marine). I've always been proud of my grandpa's military service (Leuitenant in WWII, Captain in Korean War, leading Vietmin - Marine liaison in Vietnam war), but this little memento has become far more important to me than I realized.

I've been very possessive of it, it's an important item that is far older than I am, a relic which represents a past which means so much to me. I only recently realized that I quit wearing my $450 class ring, and instead wear my little Lebanese ring every day. Where my class ring is all gold and showy, the Lebanese ring is very simple, a cleaner and less intricate version of the Greek Key running the length of the band flanked by a series of rounded pentagons representing woven flax. It's not silver or any other precious metal, and it isn't even a solid band; it is broken and adjustable.

What does seem to make sense to me is how it might have grown to be so important. In a materialistic world, I've found I often live not happy for what I have, rather unhappy for what I don't have. It's contagious, it's the way Capitalism has molded high school youth, but that doesn't mean it has been right for me to live this way. The ring is a little something which I am happy to have for its simplicity and meaning rather than value.

Perhaps I can learn to live a better way, and be the person who is happy for what they have rather than being the person who lives striving to be wealthy. I honestly need to find some good Buddhist literature...