sorry guys, i got all creative this morning when i accidentally woke up 2 hours early. i think it had something to do with my drinking a vat of chai tea at 3am. ah joy.
I went recently to visit an aquaintance of mine. It was a pleasant time, and as the afternoon progressed we moved from room to room in her home. We passed through some briefly; others were more conducive to socializing and we lingered in those. My aquaintance moved with me through the rooms, but she became rather disconnected, almost uncomfortable, in the deeper rooms of her home. She was clearly more at ease in the sunnier, less complicatedly decorated outer rooms.
I, on the other hand, greatly desired to move to the deeper rooms, and to pass our time there. She noticed this and eventually commented on it, saying, "People don't like to spend time in here anymore. It's so much nicer to sit in the light, wicker furniture on the porch and just watch the world go by, you know?" Yet I pressed on, despite her growing discomfort and desire to have a "cheery" or "pleasant" visit.
In one room I discovered that she had some beautiful but sturdy oak furniture, covered in a thick coating of dust. One particularly solid and ornate piece--a chair--caught my eye.
The thing must weigh a ton, I thought. As I moved closer, hoping we could dust it off and examine it together, she exclaimed, "Oh! Oh my! This is rather awkward for me! No one has furniture like this anymore; only odd people who read lots of books, and ones who don't care that they are different. Chairs like this can be troublesome, I mean its legal to have them and all, but sometimes I wonder if the system is very keen on that. You see, people who have chairs like these don't buy regular ones, but rather read books by old carpenters and then build their own. Their chairs are sturdy and remain after they die, then the next generation fills in the cracks and varnishes them, making them more durable and sound. Soon their friends start doing the same. I wish I could just get rid of mine; they aren't pleasant or comfortable."
I pondered what she said and realized that I know quite well what she meant. Many are happy with the cheap assembly-line chairs we sat in all day in school, even around the dinner table growing up. They
are nice looking and have comfortable little cushions on them. The same MANY see the benefit in them, and eventually buy their own set during or after college. But not me. I will learn from the true carpenters, and build my own set of heavy oak chairs. If it takes the rest of my life, I will have no regrets. I will pass them on and my children won't have to start from scratch...maybe they will have time then to build a table!
"Let's go back out to the porch and have some lemonade.", she suggested (or demanded?). I agreed reluctantly. But as we left the room I slyly brushed some dust off her prize chair.
