Till dearth do us part

We’re all married. Even the ones who’ve not tied the knot, said their vows or signed papers with a beloved. We may not have had a wedding but we all have something to have and to hold from this day forward. The day could be today or two decades ago but we all do. For me it’s an orange linen top. It’s not pretty, it’s not special, it’s not expensive nor sentimental but until it dies on me or I die in it, it’s there for the wearing!

We’re all committed to our make-up. We all have that mascara tube that we haven’t opened in weeks, that atrocious lip liner we will never throw away and the stinging toner we insist on using for better or for worse. Maybe some men don’t have make-up but they have other things. That dumbbell from their youth, ill-used as a hammer or to break open a coconut or maybe they just have a dumb belle from their youth whom they refuse to part with. 

I once bought a very expensive hair curler. And now I’m married to it. For richer, for poorer,  that’s it. My friends have told me to try new ones. I’ve seen some easy to use curlers in the mall. But nah. I’m married. I can’t cheat on something I made an investment on. I may let it rot in mis-use but it shall not be replaced. The things around us ground us. These things on our windowsills, under our beds, on our desks, shape us. Objects around us evoke emotions. Robert Frost wrote “ We love the things we love for what they are". So even the useless things are loved. Ditto with people.  Who doesn’t have a completely useless person in their lives?

Oh and the ones we avow to use in sickness and in health are those pots and pans. Any cook worth their spatula knows never to get rid of anything. Not that citrus peeler that you don't remember having! What about that colander from IKEA that lost a handle after a decade of service? I have lost a cake tester. And it pains me so much to not have it. It was basically a long needle with a plastic top, and I miss it each time I bake a cake, I think about it. Can I replace it and get a new one? Sure. But I don’t. I use a fork or a knife. Some things are like people who are dearly missed but don’t need to be replaced.

Why are we so attached to stuff? Aren’t things just things? Less valuable than people? Less important than relationships? Just plastic, paper and metal. No soul. And yet who does not have an object that they love and cherish? I do. I love my stuff.  You can’t compare things with people. It’s really apples and oranges. I love the clutter I collect, buy or accumulate but I also love the people in my life.    They are not mutually exclusive. Just because I refuse to part with any of those digicams from the noughties,  doesn’t mean I’m incapable of empathizing with someone who is compelled to disseminate salacious rumors about mutual friends. 

I know, I know, worldliness is often equated with the neglect of spirituality. Really? I love my air conditioning. I am grateful to the Gods, the inventor, the company that manufactured it, the guys who installed it and most importantly the man who pays the electricity bill. That’s my spiritual cup endowed with gratitude. Take my air conditioning away and I’m just a pair of endowed cups sweltering between rage and ire.

I plan to one day refill all my umpteen empty bottles of hand sanitizers from a bigger dispenser. I also plan to call, write and meet up with all my friends. Because I cherish them both.  Until death do us part.

The One Ring to Rule Them All

I’ve always wondered why rings have been more significant than any other piece of jewelry. Why can’t we have engagement earrings? Double the gold, double the diamonds, closer to the face! Maybe because you can’t fling a pair of earrings in a hissy fit? Pulling out a ring and flinging it is far more dramatic than unscrewing earrings.

I grew up in one of the most feckless decades of all history, the 80’s. The 80’s were the end of all jewelry. Everything was plastic, ugly and cheap. No one wore anything that was worth anything. Neither aesthetically nor monetarily.  People were paying for the walkman and perms. In the small back of beyond, bombed looking concrete jungle that I grew up in, the first head phoned sapien was a sight to behold. He had just spent a year in the US of A and decided to come back with a mullet, acid wash shorts, 20 extra kilos and a walkman on his hip. I don’t know if people pointed at him and guffawed, but they definitely did the guffawing. Society was putrescent.

All of them pointers are now paying dearly for that crime. They all have no hair, huge headphones and are sporting acid wash vests. With one more thing. A thing that’s more precious than anything Gollum stole. A thing that makes Bilbo’s paranoia look like a mild case of forgetfulness. A thing that Frodo would have carried to the ends of middle earth but would give an arm to not throw it in a fire. It’s the thing that rings.  The thing that should only ring, but does that and also everything.

We have love for these ringers. And we have more. We  have an obsession to check them every moment. The insecurity of leaving them on a table and risking others taking a peek at ‘em. The anxiety of having forgotten them. The panic when we really lose them.

We have all become ring-bearers. We all carry the burden of the ring. There’s evil there. Siri is the Nazgul and remember Sauron doesn’t need a crystal ball to know what we're doing. He gave us a ringer. And the eye is always upon us.