Home at Last

As part of a team that collects and sells art, and as a serious junk store aficionado, my personal accumulation is, well, intense. I regularly go in search of more things and have trained my daughters to be scouts, as well. As a result our family is more wrapped up in the accumulation of objects than most.

Sometime ago, I gave myself permission to enjoy all of my possessions and the process of acquiring them—I decided this was an important focus for me. Like many things in life that give us the most pleasure, I often find the process to be more important than the product. That is, the search and discovery often trump the final object.

Each possession tells a tale about its origin, its value, and how it came to be with us. Like the search, the story can bring great pleasure. Our homes are repositories, great storage sheds of our stuff. If we’re lucky, this accumulation can span generations, centuries, or just a few years, depending on our stage of life. At times we despair over the accumulation, then realize it is time to move on or “downsize,” sending part of our pile on to the next generation or back out into the world. Even though we know we can’t take it with us—all this accumulated stuff—we also sense a responsibility to do the right thing by it. We want to make sure it is distributed properly, but first we are obliged to examine our things in relationship to how we might best use and enjoy them now.


Photo © Jack Parsons
The art of collecting capitalizes on strength in numbers: appreciation often swells with sheer quantity, as with these Native American baskets.

For years, my wedding china sat on high shelves, carefully interleaved with padding, but rarely used. Sometime around my 25th wedding anniversary, it occurred to me that the china I loved as a twenty-something ought to serve me as a fifty-something. What was I waiting for? We don’t need an occasion or reason in this carpe diem of possessions. And somewhere along the line pieces might break or crack—life implies a bit of slippage—but drinking tea from a porcelain teacup with tendrils and flowers bedecking its surface fulfills the purpose of that cup. Just like all other possessions, it is meant to be used.

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