|
An Overabundance of Baublesby Patti L. Auber, published January 2013
|
I’ve always loved January.
It’s such a clean and spare month.
Perhaps it’s because after all the visual excess of the December holiday
decorations, January is so restful on the eyes and on the spirit. Outside there are trees with their bare branches
reaching to the sky in joy, skeletons of coneflowers, sedum, and yarrow, and at
least here in Ohio where I write this, a pure blanket of snow that makes
everything look smooth and clean.
(That’s assuming we have snow in Ohio this winter, given how our climate
is changing. But that’s another
column.) And here in my house, although
I’ve enjoyed all the beautiful holiday decorations, once everything’s been put
away, there is such a feeling of peace and breathing room.
January then becomes the month when I think about the overabundance of possessions in my life. I’m reminded of a poem by my favorite poet, Edna St. Vincent Millay.
This I do, being mad:
Gather baubles about me,
Sit in a circle of toys, and all the time,
Death beating the door in.
Yes, I have many “baubles” about me—a house and garage full. And from time to time it seems I have had this compulsion to gather more…and more…and more. Until finally, the paying for, and storing, and caring for all of my “baubles” becomes an onerous chore. So many of us have bursting cupboards and closets, garages too full to park in, and storage lockers brimming with “stuff” that we spent money to acquire and now are paying more money to keep packed away unused. And yet we keep on acquiring more…and more…and more.
White jade and an orange pitcher,
Hindu idol, Chinese god,--
Maybe next year, when I’m richer--
Carved beads and a lotus pod. . .
And all this time,
Death beating the door in.
So January becomes the time for me to consider my possessions, and contemplate which ones I need to keep. There are three criteria by which I judge my possessions. Category one: they are utilitarian. Cooking utensils fall into this category. And the vacuum. My goal in this category is to buy the best quality that I can, and hopefully find items that are beautiful as well as functional. For example, I just love my vacuum. I know. Crazy, right? But it works really well, and it just looks so techno-modern. I vacuum more often since I acquired it. Category two: they delight me. My crafting supplies fall into this category, although I have to tell you, I tend to go overboard here. Also, I have various pieces of art that I treasure, such as a few pieces of art photography from my brother, Dan, who has an amazing eye for light and shadow. Hanging proudly in my studio is a framed diptych that was created for me by my then- eight-year-old granddaughter, who is an impressive artist in her own right. Also in this category is some heirloom glassware that connects me to my female ancestors, which I delight in using on special occasions. (For me, a special occasion could be that the house is clean and quiet, and I am going to savor a cup of tea steeping in a delicate tea glass, and a piece of cake I serve myself on a pale pink depression glass plate I got from my mother. I have many such special occasions.) Finally, category three: they feed my soul. Some of my books fall into this category, particularly the poetry. And my musical instruments—two dulcimers, a keyboard, and various wind instruments—most of which I can play at least somewhat.
I also have things that used to fall in one of my assigned categories, but now do so no longer. Why do I hang on to them? Karen Kingston, in her book Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shui, suggests that we are “responding to an intuitive need to gather a particular type of essence that we need for our own personal growth.” She suggests that “we actually only need to collect that essence for as long as it takes us to integrate it spiritually into our life.” Then it becomes necessary for us to recognize when it’s time to turn it loose to the universe and let it be appreciated by someone else. It’s a wonderfully inspiring book when it comes to understanding why we keep the things we do, and how to move them on when it’s time.
These early winter months of 2013 will be a time for me to work some more towards the goal of having ONLY things that are beautiful or useful, or things that move me along my path of becoming a more authentic spiritual being. For me there is a great satisfaction in knowing that something I no longer use or treasure may be valued by someone else. The “stuff” we keep in our world needs to earn its right to take up space here. And as far as all those crafting supplies in my studio…well, that’s another story. I can tell you now that my New Year’s resolution is to use up what I have before buying anything new, and to look for ways to use recycled objects in my crafts more often. Even with a lot of crafting, that will take me well into 2013 (maybe even into 2014) before I’ll be spending anything on craft supplies. Think of the money I’ll save!
My New Year’s wish for you, dear reader, is that you will make space in your life. Space that will give your eyes rest and your soul ease. And that doing so will allow you to truly see and appreciate the things you have, and will allow room for something wonderful to come along—something that will grow your soul in ways you never imagined before.
Citations:
Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shui, by Karen Kingston, 1999, Broadway Books.
Collected Lyrics of Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1939, Harper & Row Publishers.
January then becomes the month when I think about the overabundance of possessions in my life. I’m reminded of a poem by my favorite poet, Edna St. Vincent Millay.
This I do, being mad:
Gather baubles about me,
Sit in a circle of toys, and all the time,
Death beating the door in.
Yes, I have many “baubles” about me—a house and garage full. And from time to time it seems I have had this compulsion to gather more…and more…and more. Until finally, the paying for, and storing, and caring for all of my “baubles” becomes an onerous chore. So many of us have bursting cupboards and closets, garages too full to park in, and storage lockers brimming with “stuff” that we spent money to acquire and now are paying more money to keep packed away unused. And yet we keep on acquiring more…and more…and more.
White jade and an orange pitcher,
Hindu idol, Chinese god,--
Maybe next year, when I’m richer--
Carved beads and a lotus pod. . .
And all this time,
Death beating the door in.
So January becomes the time for me to consider my possessions, and contemplate which ones I need to keep. There are three criteria by which I judge my possessions. Category one: they are utilitarian. Cooking utensils fall into this category. And the vacuum. My goal in this category is to buy the best quality that I can, and hopefully find items that are beautiful as well as functional. For example, I just love my vacuum. I know. Crazy, right? But it works really well, and it just looks so techno-modern. I vacuum more often since I acquired it. Category two: they delight me. My crafting supplies fall into this category, although I have to tell you, I tend to go overboard here. Also, I have various pieces of art that I treasure, such as a few pieces of art photography from my brother, Dan, who has an amazing eye for light and shadow. Hanging proudly in my studio is a framed diptych that was created for me by my then- eight-year-old granddaughter, who is an impressive artist in her own right. Also in this category is some heirloom glassware that connects me to my female ancestors, which I delight in using on special occasions. (For me, a special occasion could be that the house is clean and quiet, and I am going to savor a cup of tea steeping in a delicate tea glass, and a piece of cake I serve myself on a pale pink depression glass plate I got from my mother. I have many such special occasions.) Finally, category three: they feed my soul. Some of my books fall into this category, particularly the poetry. And my musical instruments—two dulcimers, a keyboard, and various wind instruments—most of which I can play at least somewhat.
I also have things that used to fall in one of my assigned categories, but now do so no longer. Why do I hang on to them? Karen Kingston, in her book Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shui, suggests that we are “responding to an intuitive need to gather a particular type of essence that we need for our own personal growth.” She suggests that “we actually only need to collect that essence for as long as it takes us to integrate it spiritually into our life.” Then it becomes necessary for us to recognize when it’s time to turn it loose to the universe and let it be appreciated by someone else. It’s a wonderfully inspiring book when it comes to understanding why we keep the things we do, and how to move them on when it’s time.
These early winter months of 2013 will be a time for me to work some more towards the goal of having ONLY things that are beautiful or useful, or things that move me along my path of becoming a more authentic spiritual being. For me there is a great satisfaction in knowing that something I no longer use or treasure may be valued by someone else. The “stuff” we keep in our world needs to earn its right to take up space here. And as far as all those crafting supplies in my studio…well, that’s another story. I can tell you now that my New Year’s resolution is to use up what I have before buying anything new, and to look for ways to use recycled objects in my crafts more often. Even with a lot of crafting, that will take me well into 2013 (maybe even into 2014) before I’ll be spending anything on craft supplies. Think of the money I’ll save!
My New Year’s wish for you, dear reader, is that you will make space in your life. Space that will give your eyes rest and your soul ease. And that doing so will allow you to truly see and appreciate the things you have, and will allow room for something wonderful to come along—something that will grow your soul in ways you never imagined before.
Citations:
Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shui, by Karen Kingston, 1999, Broadway Books.
Collected Lyrics of Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1939, Harper & Row Publishers.