When I was under ten, I used to collect little ceramic/porcelain animals. I loved them. They were so delicate and miniature. I had a special shelf that I kept them on and dusted them lovingly. Great joy was in the finding, admiring and keeping of these little animals. Eventually I grew tired of this collection and got rid of them. One big factor in this move was moving itself.
Over the years, I have had several collections. In The Happiness Project, Gretchen Rubin writes about collections and that she has never had one. This, I doubt. I think she is not looking close enough. She may be thinking very narrowly, as in picturing a glass curio cabinet with breakable china or a room overflowing with teapots. If she looked closer, she would find that she does, in fact, have collections. For this book she wrote, for instance, she collected other writings on happiness, though she didn't call it a collection. She certainly has a collection of books in her house. Most people do. And, most people have a collection of friends, family photos and clothes. She actually decided to collect bluebirds in the course of her book and found several select bluebirds (of happiness) for her office while she worked. Perhaps she is defining a collection as something whose sole purpose is to be collected and then sit idly on a shelf collecting dust itself. To me, this is exactly the wrong kind of collection to have. Or rather, the scope of this definition is wrong, as it is far too narrow.
I, too, have a collection of books. I go through mine periodically and only keep the ones that I would read again, or that are extremely special to me. Probably the subject I have the most books on is childbirth and related subjects. But, rivaling that is my poetry section. One of my former chapters in my life, I spent writing poetry and I still find it an art form that brings me great joy and comfort. It is no mistake that it was a poem that inspired this blog title and content. It was instead, serendipity.
My collections have dwindled over the years, as I had children and came to believe that the more stuff I have, the more I have to dust. And I just don't want to spend any more time dusting than I have to. In scaling down my likes and my possessions, and to some degree separating my wants from my needs, I refined what I really love to be surrounded by and it has turned into a feeling of warmth and authenticity I am surrounded by now.
My most treasured collection that I have is my collection of mothers. I didn't realize for many, many years that is exactly what I have, but it is. And perhaps it seems like it is cheapening their presence in my life to call them that, but I certainly mean no disrespect. Instead, only the greatest Respect. This is a side effect, or rather, a side asset to losing my mother at six, I suppose. And, the first mother I collected after my own mother, was my Aunt Diane. Then came my best friend Erika's mother, Mary. She welcomed me into her arms and her home like I was her own daughter. After that, wherever I moved, I seemed to find at least one older woman who was my friend, first and foremost, but also became like a mother figure to me, in one way or another. This is because women are amazing. Centered women who have found their truth accept you as you are, and that is a true gift. I cherish these women in my life, all of my Mothers. And while I still miss my mother with every cell of my being, I know that she is in my heart, and perhaps she has even sent these other Mothers my way. Regardless of whether that is true or not, I still welcome them and treasure their wisdom, love and acceptance. I am rich.
Do you collect anything? What, if so, and what led you to collect?
