Breaking Things

For much of my life, I’ve attempted to keep things that I love in a state of perfection. No wrinkles, bent pages, marks, dents, or chips. Carefully, carefully. This desire may have stemmed from the heartbreak I experienced when my favorite mug broke as a child, or from broken toys, or a beloved book colored on by a younger sibling, or who knows what. Regardless of the cause, I’ve spent much of my life in that camp of ‘if I don’t wear my favorite shirt, it won’t get ruined, and if we don’t use the wedding china, it won’t break’. Preserve perfection because that is love.

Somewhere in the last few years my sentimental tendencies and my theology found a correct click.

Theologically, I believe all physical things are in a pre-ash state. We’re not taking any mugs, t-shirts, plants, books, or works of art with us. I know this, but my response communicated that I hadn’t learned the lesson.

What is the lesson?

Love loosely. Use up. Enjoy!

If your husband buys you a new dishwasher or a new piece of jewelry and you don’t use it in some vain attempt to preserve the gift, you’re not enjoying the gift. Gifts are meant to be used even if it breaks them in the end.

It’s the same with our bodies. Women say they don’t want to have kids because it will destroy their figures and their health. Let me tell you, as one of the childless, you will lose your figure and your health either way, but losing it to bring another person into the world? At least that has a purpose.

It is better to use and replace than not to use at all. Better a wrinkled and beloved book than a pristine but unread book. Loosely love the things of this world but love them. Love the oak and the gladiola even if the gladiola only blooms for a day. Use that dish set. Let the throw pillows be on the floor. Let things be worn with love.

You know, it’s funny that it took me so long to practice this when the Velveteen Rabbit was one of my favorite books growing up. You would think that I would take in the story of a wearing love being better than no love.

This might be a part of the rise of granniecore. I like a rustic modern aesthetic and am generally minimalistic. When I started taking my decorating seriously, those two looks were huge and I truly love them. But the backlash is happening. The New Bohemians Handbook by Justina Blakeney is the polar opposite of Joanna Gaines’ Homebody. Why have one area rug when you could layer 3 or 5? I think part of this is the minimalist aesthetic went too far and everything started to look sterile, too pristine. Nothing had character. Do you know where character comes from? It comes from use. And use scratches, breaks, wrinkles, bends, creases, and chips. This is true of things and true of people.

Instead of raging against this truth, instead of trying to live in a white glove museum, just love loosely and be okay when things break.

The invasion of the next generation helped this concept click into place for me. I suddenly and deeply realized that the kids of my siblings and friends were far dearer to me than my stuff. The first time an exuberant child rushed in with a handful of freshly picked pansies from my flowerbed, I laughed even though their mom was horrified. The numerous boys flopping on our couch, little footprints tracked on the floor, and the time I almost refused to let my cousin wash my windows because little Imogene handprints covered it, this, this is when I learned as a woman that stuff isn’t as important as people, as souls.

Love loosely.

With my fists slowly opening, I find myself saying yes! Use it! So what if it breaks, or wears out? Better that than not enjoying it at all!

This too is part of delighting in our homes with a heart of merry durability.

The other part of this? This is what allows us to make a home anywhere. I fully expect us to stay in the house we’re in for pretty much the rest of our lives. But when we were younger we moved three times in our first 10 years of marriage. We, ladies, are the home. We are. Not the building, but us, tending the hearth. Armed with that power, we can make a home anywhere! Because we love the people. The stuff is our tools, the people are who we tend. So we hold our tools loosely, knowing we will have to replace them, but that souls are forever.

Pre-ash doesn’t mean don’t love, it doesn’t mean the temporary is unimportant. It just means we love loosely.