Furniture

I purchased some furniture in September. I responded to an incentive to buy American-manufactured furniture at a large local furniture chain. I liked the sofa and loveseat. The design is conservative, durable and comfortable. The price moderate. The salesperson assured me that I would receive the pieces within the 4-6-week window.

 

The furniture is due here this morning, nearly 12 weeks after my purchase. Windows in modern retail appear to be opaque or painted over, it seems. To the company's credit, they are waiving the delivery charge. This consideration came after I called before Thanksgiving and informed them I would be entertaining 6 for dinner without my furniture. I indicated that I was not pleased.

 

I have lived without furniture at different times in my life. I once rented an expensive studio apartment in a high-rise. I couldn't afford to furnish it, so I lived on the lovely parquet floors with a futon  and a round coffee table, surrounded by cushions. I enjoyed watching the expressions on the faces of my guests when they entered. Several of them were enthusiastic converts to the Japanese way after having a meal on the floor. Others needed help getting up.

 

Furniture is like many other things that become more or less important at different times in life. When I was in cancer treatments for three months, I lived in a loaned condo which was empty with the exception of a hospital bed, a card table and two folding chairs. I was perfectly content with the hospital bed, since I spent my first weeks there sleeping on a patch of foam rubber on the hardwood floor.

 

In my thirties, I had a small antiques business as a second job. When I moved to Provincetown after the break-up with my partner in the business, I lived with twenty chiming/gonging clocks, many decorative pieces, desks, tables, music boxes. The one-room cottage I rented was 300 square feet. Eventually I sorted all this out. The acquisition of enough space to walk across the room was exhilarating.

 

My point is this: Things can amuse, comfort or imprison. The relationship I establish with things in my life is in my mind. It is under my control. Learning I can live well with or without things is a very valuable lesson. You cannot learn it from commercial TV or the Web. I have to relearn it every so often. This is a conscious part of my practice.