Friday, April 13, 2012
L is for Luxury
1. a material object, or service conducive to sumptuous living, usually a delicacy, elegance, or refinement of living rather than a necessity.
2. indulgence in or enjoyment of comforts and pleasures in addition to those necessary for a reasonable standard of well-being.
3. a pleasure out of the ordinary allowed to oneself.
When most of us think in terms of luxury, we think of penthouse suites or homes large enough to get lost in, four star restaurants, cruises, flashy cars, pricey jewelry, and clothing bought in places that would call security if we showed up dressed as we are.
I don't know about you, but that all sounds like a big headache waiting to happen. It sounds like a whole lot of upkeep to me. It sounds a lot like work.
I prefer my version(s) of luxury. In my version of luxury, I sit on my humble little back deck and watch the sun come up over the mountains. In my version of luxury, I pull on the same old jeans and t-shirts that I've been wearing for years and which, when bought, didn't wipe out the grocery budget for months. In my version of luxury, I sit on the floor with my mate, eating pizza, and trying to get the answers right on Jeopardy. In my version of luxury, I lounge on the beat up old sofa in my ratty old bathrobe and read a book. In my version of luxury, I have the freedom to laugh at things that are funny, and even some that are not. In my version of luxury, my toughest decision is Cheerios or Raisin Bran.
In my version of luxury, I work in a studio that's actually the second bedroom of our home. The carpet is easily 25 years old (that color of gold belonged to one decade and one decade only!), the bookshelves are cheap veneer covered fiberboard dealies. My work table is one of those cafeteria style things with folding legs. My fancy-schmancy cutting station is an old dresser that was given to me years ago. It's all perfect because I can get paint and ink and glitter and paper bits all over the place and it won't matter. Nothing is going to get ruined any worse than it already is. To me, it's the ultimate luxury - I get to do what I love doing and without being inhibited by any kind of pretentiousness.
A couple of weeks ago quite a few friends were dreaming of winning the mega lottery and talking about what they'd do with all that cash. Honestly? Once the bills were paid and my family was taken care of, I'd buy my mate the boat of his dreams and buy myself all the art supplies I've ever wanted. And then life would just go on.
Luxury is waking up each morning head over heals, crazy in love with life.
Posted by Barb Black at 10:09:00 AM