I pride myself on not being attached to stuff. If there was a fire, I've always assumed that once my family and dog are out of the house, I would be torn between grabbing my jewelry box and tossing a few handfuls of fiction literature out the window. The other stuff? Not so much.
I mean, we are about to move, and I hate that there is so much stuff. I pack box after box of weighty tomes, clothes, dishes, theatre props, desk supplies, computer equipment... you name it. And I keep thinking, wow, I have hardly even touched the stuff I use on a daily basis. I am purging, trust me. I have filled the dumpster a dozen times so far, and have sold stuff, and plan to have a huge moving sale. I expect the movers (the same local company we used four years ago) to marvel at the empty(ish) house...
But, apparently, I am a liar.
I have this bad habit of not washing my wine glasses. I let the counter get crowded with three or four well rinsed but unwashed glasses. I don't want to have anything else in the drainboard when I wash them--I've broken a glass or two that way, and hate cleaning up the broken glass. So, I had five glasses waiting to be cleaned, and finally had an empty drainboard.
Two were white wine glasses with twisty stems that I purchased at a yard sale. The other three were part of a set of four purchased by Wine Friend, as a gift for my birthday. They are lovely Shiraz glasses by Riedel. Three years ago, I would have just loved that someone bought me elegant wine glasses (and from Williams Sonoma!), but being a little more educated now, I recognize the care with which these glasses were chosen. He's been bringing wine out for almost two years now, and knows not only on what I like, but what kinds of wine I tend to purchase for myself. He also knew that I'd been drinking wine out of glasses that don't do justice to them. (You don't have to be a wine snob to recognize that the shape of a glass can enhance or distract.) It probably wasn't a difficult purchase, but it showed that he knew what I liked and would appreciate, and chose to purchase it for me.
I love these glasses, I am sure you can tell. But I didn't know I loved them until I broke one last night while washing it. For a shocked moment, I looked at the soapy broken glass. And then I began to weep. Not just cry a little. Weep. The Husband helped me gather the broken pieces, and offered to finish up for me. I went upstairs, sat on the floor by my bed, and just wept.
It's just stuff, right? I still have three, right? It's just a fucking wine glass, right?
I pride myself on being practical. Why buy nice clothes if they are just going to be out of fashion in two years? (investment or quirky pieces, it all comes from Target or is on sale.) Why buy a new car if my Honda Civic is still working and likely to continue working as long as I maintain it (mileage over 165K!)? Why buy a new book if I can just check it out at the library or borrow it from a friend to see if I like the author enough to spend money on it? (Sookie Stackhouse novels, yes. "Shades of Grey", god no...)
But I like wine. I don't buy rotgut because I don't like it. Not being independently wealthy, I won't buy bottles of wine that are over $20 unless there is a sale, and when I find something I like and is reasonably priced, I may buy several bottles more. I am no oenophile, but I am semi-literate. Those glasses were a gift from someone vastly more educated in wine than I am, selected to help me enjoy what I do drink at home.
Wine Friend visited Saturday night, and the three of us were sitting around discussing life, the universe, and everything. And I said that this world is pretty terrible, and that even though I recognized the misery in the world, I felt like I was just a spoiled housewife who contributed nothing to make it better. And Wine Friend shot me down, saying that Husband and the Boy would argue, and that I bring joy to those around me, and to the arts community, and to him.
Sober, I can agree with that assessment. I do bring joy to many people around me. I cannot save the world perhaps, but I do what I can to bring light to the world around me. I spend countless hours helping to organize a tour of artists studios, which helps the local economy, brings artists and the community together, and educates the public about the arts in general. The visual arts produce material objects that please people, and serve a purpose. Every morning I drink my coffee from mugs produced by local potters. My walls are covered in visual art that pleases me.
Appreciating a few material objects is not embracing materialism--there is a middle ground that I have never really recognized. Yes, I absolutely object to the endless consumerism of modern life-- and am frustrated with the amount of stuff that we all seem driven to acquire. I still have no desire to continue to upgrade just because I can.
But I do have a few items in my possession that genuinely make me happy. My hardcover edition of "The Sun Also Rises" was bound with the cover on upside down. When I was fifteen, I took it to Mexico and read while imagining myself as a glamorous ex-pat in another country. My engagement ring is lovely and was designed especially for me by the Husband, who was instructed to get a ring that I couldn't hurt myself with. He did that AND recycled diamonds-- very cool ring, and cool of him to do it. I like the story almost as much as the ring. So surely I can recognize that joy can come from an object that holds special meaning to me.
Even a wine glass given to me by a good friend.
