Kindred
I recently heard someone say that having money meant having the luxury to say no. After having spent a good fifteen years disappointing myself with every practical decision I’ve made, I can tell you I haven’t stopped thinking about that. Those who say what-ifs are a waste of time might have fewer missed opportunities. When you’re driven by pragmatism and paralyzed by an inability to trust that you can…anything, well the what-ifs start to pile up. So how did I end up here? Well, it was a trip to Antique Row that did it. Antique Row is full of shops with furniture, clothes, technologies, toys, postcards, and paintings that will transport you into the past. The past long before your troubles were even a possibility. I go there when I’m at my breaking point, and after wandering around for the afternoon leave with something affordable that will inevitably add to the clutter that I need to organize in a late night cleaning frenzy. That trip though, I found a kindred spirit. She was suffocating under a pile of dusty books in the corner of shop that sold less lovingly restored pieces. I found her looking for a first edition something or other. I was hooked. The shop keeper skimmed through the little black, leather-bound journal and shrugged. He let me have it for free. I purchased a red, tin nut grinder. I won’t be grinding any nuts. I like to adopt the obsolete. I’m sure if I could afford it, my therapist would have diagnosis for that too.