I look over at the oriental lilies, they’ve not opened yet, but I know when they do they will be beautiful. The aroma will flow through my home and they will look glorious in the tall glass vase in which they stand. I look around my home and see all the beautiful things around me, I love beauty, it doesn’t have to be anything of value, it just has to speak to me. My mum used to say, and I think someone said it before her, ‘only keep the things around you that are beautiful’, I agree, I can let anything else go.
My idea of beauty will probably be totally different to anyone elses. I love rich colour, I have an old oriental rug across the middle of the room in deepest reds, tapestry cushions, wood, photos of beautiful people I love and paintings that speak to me. I like paintings, or prints as most of them are of dancers and women. I like reminders of places that are special, like the prints I have of Brighton, Richmond and Montmartre.
I collect memories, silly things like pebbles from beaches, notes from friends and family heirlooms and mirrors, I love mirrors and crystals too. I have plenty of candles, I never have a main light on and I just love my kitchen, implements and an array of ingredients. I like good linens and crisp white towels. I believe I make a nice home, I’m happy in my home, it describes me well.
But it’s stuff isn’t it, just stuff. I might find it beautiful, others might, but one day I’ll get up and leave it all behind. One day I’ll walk out of here and leave my body behind me too.
I intend to get over my attachment to things one day, one day I’ll have no choice. In the mean time, which I hope will go on for quite a while, I’m letting things go. I live much more minimally than I did, I want to get better. Because you see, one day after I’ve gone. Maybe after they bury or cremate me, I don’t want anyone else to have to worry about my beautiful things and what to do with them.