The greatest joy one can have is in sharing. Whether is it sharing our stories or sharing the objects that bring you happiness, they are only truly enjoyed when shared with others. That was my thought this morning as I looked around my home. I do have little objects, nick-knacks and gee-gaws scattered about. Some of these things are very old, some purchased just yesterday but it makes little difference. I enjoy seeing them, but enjoy sharing them even more.
What is the premise of decorating? The object is to present items for others to view, admire and ultimately desire. Yes, we hope others enjoy those object, to share the love of that object with ourselves. Of, course that is on a personal level, commercial interests aside. And that in and of itself is the telling feature. My most treasured objects are not for sale at any price. That is true when the object is not inherently valuable, like a crayon picture drawn by your grandchild. Our most valuable commodity? Our memories. The value lies in sharing.
I think about how my memories will one day be nothing more than stories. That is one of the motivations I have for writing these blogs and other musings. I want my memories to live on even when I am gone. It is my hope that they can remain as memories for someone else and not just a dusty old story told by a stranger. But I am aware that is not possible, at least for me it isn't. You could argue that the great authors have succeeded in doing that. Their names are spoken almost daily by someone. I'm thinking of authors like Mark Twain, Hemmingway or Steinbeck. But you could also argue they didn't write memories in the first person, they were telling a tale. Still, they are remembered and that is the goal here.
But, for today, for now, my joy comes from the sharing of them. I present them with the expectation that others will enjoy them. I don't write anything to deliberately make others dislike me, or my thoughts, what would be the purpose in that? Wouldn't that be like hanging a picture you hate on your living room wall? To what end? Although I think some people just hang whatever is the popular choice at the moment in an attempt to impress, or be included. No other explanation for those choices that I can discern. But, I digress here. I was talking about sharing.
When we share and others don't like what we share that is unsettling. I believe everyone would have to agree with that statement. It does bring our choices into question. Our reaction to that is what defines our character and our personal fortitude. Do you vigorously defend your choices or capitulate to the others opinions? The truly confident person does neither, they just continue on their path. The reason for that? Because sharing is not an attempt to influence, it is a presentation of love. Nothing is required in exchange. Sharing is a gift, a gift is only a gift when nothing is expected in return. One can only offer a gift, the acceptance of that gift is beyond our control.
What is the premise of decorating? The object is to present items for others to view, admire and ultimately desire. Yes, we hope others enjoy those object, to share the love of that object with ourselves. Of, course that is on a personal level, commercial interests aside. And that in and of itself is the telling feature. My most treasured objects are not for sale at any price. That is true when the object is not inherently valuable, like a crayon picture drawn by your grandchild. Our most valuable commodity? Our memories. The value lies in sharing.
I think about how my memories will one day be nothing more than stories. That is one of the motivations I have for writing these blogs and other musings. I want my memories to live on even when I am gone. It is my hope that they can remain as memories for someone else and not just a dusty old story told by a stranger. But I am aware that is not possible, at least for me it isn't. You could argue that the great authors have succeeded in doing that. Their names are spoken almost daily by someone. I'm thinking of authors like Mark Twain, Hemmingway or Steinbeck. But you could also argue they didn't write memories in the first person, they were telling a tale. Still, they are remembered and that is the goal here.
But, for today, for now, my joy comes from the sharing of them. I present them with the expectation that others will enjoy them. I don't write anything to deliberately make others dislike me, or my thoughts, what would be the purpose in that? Wouldn't that be like hanging a picture you hate on your living room wall? To what end? Although I think some people just hang whatever is the popular choice at the moment in an attempt to impress, or be included. No other explanation for those choices that I can discern. But, I digress here. I was talking about sharing.
When we share and others don't like what we share that is unsettling. I believe everyone would have to agree with that statement. It does bring our choices into question. Our reaction to that is what defines our character and our personal fortitude. Do you vigorously defend your choices or capitulate to the others opinions? The truly confident person does neither, they just continue on their path. The reason for that? Because sharing is not an attempt to influence, it is a presentation of love. Nothing is required in exchange. Sharing is a gift, a gift is only a gift when nothing is expected in return. One can only offer a gift, the acceptance of that gift is beyond our control.
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