Collecting Dust

The Vera Wang stemware was the only “extravagance item” that we registered for 7 ½ years ago when we got married. I remember the expression because after an hour the salesgirl convinced me that every bride deserved a little extravagance. Everything else on the list was practical: pots, pans, flatware, towels, a bedspread, etc.– sensible things. Things we still use today.

But this stemware, I just had to have it.

When we didn’t receive the full set as gifts, Brian and I fought about using some of the wedding cash to complete the collection. I won that argument. And the day after we returned from our honeymoon, we were proud owners of the 2003 Vera Wang by Wedgwood Glassware Collection.

We brought it home to the apartment we were living in at the time and put it in a box for safe keeping until we moved to a more permanent residence. Three moves and seven years later the whole collection was still in that box, unopened and in its original packaging. I know, because I found the box this weekend when I was cleaning.

At first I was just going to dust around it and, I don’t know– leave it there for another seven years? Then I realized how ridiculous this whole situation was and in a moment of minor hysteria I liberated the whole collection. Freeing each delicate piece from its crypt of plastic and foam wrapping.

And right there, among ruins of the cardboard tomb, I filled one of the wine glasses with Cabernet and toasted to progress.

It’s funny (and maybe even a little sad) that it took my ridiculous relationship to this stemware to remind me that value doesn’t belong to things, but rather to how we choose to interact with them.

~Stacey

40 Days

I just spent the last 40 days as a vegan. And surprisingly – I loved it!

The decision to make such a drastic change to my diet came as the natural evolution to my relationship with Baron Baptiste’s program, “40 Days to Personal Revolution” (based on his book with the same name).

The program uses yoga asana, seated meditation, a mindful diet, and probing journaling questions to guide participants towards a more authentic expression of themselves. I have taken part in, and more recently facilitated, the program several times over the last five years and each time it lands differently with me. This time (with a little urging from my co-facilitator and friend, Sally) I decided to “go vegan” for the entirety of the program.

Okay… Great so I didn’t eat animal products for forty days.

But why mention this on a blog about not buying anything new? Well, because the combination of this project and the 40 Day program proved to be both powerful and informative.

With the new restrictions to my diet, I immediately noticed how much time, money, and energy over the last year I’ve poured into food. Seeking it. Shopping for it. Reading about it. Preparing it. Eating it. Fantasizing about it.

Now, let’s get something straight… I LOVE FOOD! Always have.

But it didn’t take long for me to realize that my enthusiasm for it had shifted into an obsession over the past year. In the simplest terms, I had transferred my desire to shop – to accumulate – from “things” to food. (And to be completely honest, my waistline was starting to reflect this trend.)

A big wake-up call, for sure. And one I wouldn’t have heard without the combination of these two undertakings.

Maybe it’s because I’m sipping on the first coffee I’ve had in six weeks, but right now I’m filled with gratitude for this new awareness and for the opportunity to make some new choices.

(If you’re wondering, I plan to continue this vegan diet with a 90/10 approach. Similar to my thoughts on incorporating the things I’ve learned, thus far, from this year of nothing new into my post 2010 existence. My new mantra: Balance.)

~Stacey

Where Giving Less is Getting More

Rumor has it that Christmas commercials have started to air. And I just saw Christmas tree plants in front of a home improvement store. Already??? Really?

With the kick-off of the holiday season, I realize how different this year will be for me and my gifting. Every year, like most people, I find myself rushing around for gifts, writing cards, and not enjoying any of it because I’m not taking the time to enjoy what the holidays are all about: the people you love. Last year, I even decided to run a Christmas cookie business on the side to make some extra cash. But instead of putting me in the holiday spirit, all the extra baking left me tired and grumpy.

I’ve decided for this year, I’m not going to give many gifts, and if I do, they will be extra thoughtful, homemade, things ticket/event related, or things people can eat/drink during the holiday season. I may even just cook dinners for family and friends over the course of the next couple months as my “gift.” I’m not even going to send out any Christmas cards. Most end up being impersonal and thrown out eventually.

My gift from my mom is my flight home. And I’ve asked to receive nothing else. Because my family is all I really need this time of year.

And Stacey...you hear that? No gifts! Let's just go out for some great dinners when you're visiting in January.

I’m committing myself to truly enjoy the holidays, to enjoy the people I’m with and gifting a present, cheery self.

Here’s to a new holiday season: where giving less is getting more.

-Courtney

Birthday Presence

I just turned 30. And to celebrate Brian whisked me away to the wood’s of Cook Forest for a little R&R. At first I was hoping his gift would be more useful… more practical like underwear and socks to replace the dingy items in my panty drawer or a new yoga outfit I could wear when I teach.

But a getaway in the woods… Really? Not Brian’s style at all. So I knew something was up.

When I asked him about his choice of gift he explained that he wanted to honor my year of nothing new and give me an experience rather than more “stuff”. And he made the right decision, the weekend was magical and just what I needed. It really became a birthday of presence rather than presents!

(If you're interested – a few of my more practical girlfriends did give me the priceless gift of new underwear, but my socks still have holes!)

~Stacey

Flea Markets and Wedding Registries...

Yesterday, I got up early, grabbed a coffee, and braved the lines and parking (which really wasn't bad) for the Pasadena Flea Market, an event that happens the second Sunday of every month at the Rose Bowl http://www.rgcshows.com/. I recommend it, even though its completely overwhelming! There were antiques, artist booths, and lots of records and clothes and boots and anything you could ever imagine wanting to buy second hand! I left with an old 50's pyrex bowl, an apron, a few records, and some gifts for my friend Faith and Chris' upcoming wedding party.

I realized that I wouldn't be able to purchase something from their registry a few weeks ago and thought long and hard on what I could gift them for such a momentous occasion. I'm very satisfied by what I came up with and think it has more meaning then something from their scanned list: I made a cookbook with recipes of mine that they've enjoyed over the years, as well as new ones I think they'll like since they enjoy cooking together. And yesterday at the market, I found a set of James Taylor records that they will love to play together since he's one of Faith's favorites.

Hope they don't read this...wouldn't want to give the surprise away...don't think they will since they are in Hawaii, but if so....congrats Faith and Chris! I love you both.

-Courtney

Documenting What's Really Important

I'm working on a documentary and with it, like all good artistic projects for me, comes a lot of reflection.

The documentary is on my ex-guy's band, and my thesis is: What does it means to be in a band before anyone really knows who you are? Why do you believe in it and stick with it year after year? What does it mean to commit to a group of people and project? What does success mean and when will you know you've reached it?

I've been thinking a lot about what makes us do the things we do: with projects, with people, with work, with anything that we commit to...

Watching tape after tape of this band...of their family and friends...of my observance and interviews...I can't help but think of how much fun it is...how much love there is for the art and the work and the relationships...and how I've captured a lot of great footage on a rinky dink camera that I borrowed from a friend. Its intimate, its real...things I don't think I would have achieved if I had gone out and bought or even rented a nice HD camera. What I have instead is something real that I think a lot of people will appreciate. And I've not spend much money on it, or bought any large props for it...but I've spent time and love and thought. And those are always worth more to me at the end of the day.

-Courtney

Lost & Found

I lost my wedding ring.

When I realized it wasn’t on my finger I was pretty sure I had left it at the yoga studio. (I have a bad habit of taking it off during practice and placing it next to my mat – only this time I must have forgotten to put it back on.) When I retraced my tracks it was nowhere to be found.

A brief call to my insurance company revealed that our policy’s deductible was higher than the value of the ring, therefore I would not be receiving any funds to aid in the purchase of a replacement.

So, I spent a month without wearing a wedding ring and had no urgent plans to replace it. On a whim, I wondered into a local jewelry store and ended up buying a very simple estate ring, circa 1940. I was absolutely delighted with the substitute.

(I hate to admit it, but before this project I would have most likely thrown a hissy fit about losing my ring, marched to the nearest jewelry store, and bought (probably on credit) a new ring that was even nicer than the one I lost. Thus, I considered the whole ordeal to be a blessing and my reaction to be progress.)

Two weeks after I purchased the “new” ring my friend Katie was cleaning the yoga studio and found my original under a shelving unit!

I’m glad, of course, that my ring was found, but I learned some important things from the experience of losing (if just temporarily) a material item that holds a personal meaning:

1. I need to be more present. If I were paying more attention to what I was doing I wouldn’t have lost the ring in the first place.
2. Even a wedding ring (though a symbol of something bigger) is just a thing. And like with all “things” can be replaced.
3. I will never buy new jewelry again, as vintage pieces are cheaper and often more interesting. (A fact that I had never contemplated until this project.)
4. Fully insuring fine jewelry makes sense.
5. I’ll keep my ring on during asana practice even if it bugs me in headstand.
6. Some men actually do check to see if you are wearing a wedding ring, but that these are typically not the kind of men one wants to associate with.

~Stacey