Loving, With All Your Might, What You Have
A great English thinker and theologian wrote one of my favorite lines:
“There is the great lesson of ‘Beauty and the Beast,’ that a thing must be loved before it is lovable.” — G.K. Chesterton
Tonight I’m sitting in my small, tidy apartment, mentally applying this logic to my humble, but very loved, belongings. There is so much room for improvement here, aesthetically and practically. I would love to have a fancy soap dispenser, for example, instead of the plastic Palmolive bottle leaning leaned against my Mr. Coffee. My appliances are a dated and a dingy cream color, not stainless steel (although, I admit, when and if I upgrade, I think I’ll miss my refrigerator magnets). My walls are scuffed, my floor slightly crooked, there is an organ-shaped knick in my countertop, and my ceiling indicates that I do not need to worry about Joe Biden’s tax plan.
And yet, I can’t help but love this 525 square feet of paradise. It’s mine. Each piece of artwork on my unfortunately-band-aid-colored wall holds significance. Each Thursday before Shabbat I sweep and scrub and vacuum. On Friday mornings I buy flowers and display them on the coffee table that once belonged to my grandparents. Most of the things I own have come from someone else, actually, but in that way I bring all of the homes I have loved into harmony. What’s mine is only…
