Debris: (n) the remains of anything left over
It’s a matter of getting the right mind-set. If you don’t, you may find yourself going through life feeling cheated—angered at being passed over.
The bottom line is that ninety percent of us never get a chance to work with something that’s brand new.
The folks who handle the new shit have to have so much money that you and I could never achieve such garish amounts.
What we end up with are left-overs.
- Abandoned projects.
- Broken pieces.
- And ideas that have already been deemed worthless.
Yet it is completely possible to get rich off of poor results—to have money because someone else failed to see a way to turn the material into something viable.
This is why a carpenter once mused that “the meek will inherit the Earth.”
In other words, once the rich people get bored or can’t remember why they bought something in the first place or have broken it just a little bit and don’t want to mess with it anymore—well, these spoiled-rotten humans will walk away and leave it behind, making it, shall we say, public domain.
I, myself, am a piece of debris.
I probably am not handsome enough for a fancy woman.
I’m not slender enough for an athletic one.
My talent is obvious but diversified and might confuse those who are looking for the strait and narrow.
I don’t have enough money to impress you.
And I don’t have the desire to overwhelm you with my silver tongue.
I pick up what’s usable and make it better. In making it better, I end up with the full usage of the discarded, and the possibility that someone might just want my little piece of renovated debris.
What is the old saying?
One man’s treasure is another man’s junk?
Also, one man’s junk, if treasured, can delight the world.