OLD THINGS

While cooking pasta recently, I took down from a high shelf this bent and tarnished colander. When my mother-in-law died six years ago, my husband and I went through her many possessions, giving some away to family and friends, tossing others, and keeping some things for ourselves. One of the items that seemed to speak to me was this colander, so I took it home.

I already had a shiny, new colander that was twice its size. Why did I decide to keep this worn one? Perhaps my mother had one just like it when I was growing up, and it subconsciously brought warm memories of home-cooked meals with my parents and three sisters.

I suspect this old thing possesses character, unlike the bright new one. It’s seen countless years of use, and would have tales to tell, if it could speak.

One of the lessons I learned on my Vision Quest in 2000 was that all things possess the Spirit. The only reason that molecules bind together and form objects is because they are directed by an Unseen Hand. This lowly colander has Spirit, just as I do. I respect that.

In addition, though, the very qualities of age, the tarnished metal, and the warped shape all seem to me to be beautiful. I, too, am worn. My hair no longer gleams with warm shades of honey. The sleek shape I was so proud of for many years is now a thing of the past. And yet, am I not still beautiful in a way that reflects inner character? I like to think that is true.

Admiring my old colander and loving it for its age and worn beauty, is a metaphor for loving myself as I grow older. Just as I appreciate the colander for its character, its years of service, and its tarnished beauty, so too I am grateful for this body that has served me well, and for my open and growing spirit.