Defining Objects

I once read a GQ article as a youngster that talked about defining objects.  It was an article that really hit home at the time that I read it, and one that, to this day, still makes so much sense to me.  I wish I still had the article, or even knew where I could find it.  Believe me, I've tried.  But, the point of the article was that for many of us, we bring ourselves close to things that define us.  That is, things that show the world who and what we are.  The article concluded by giving an example of the author standing in line behind a gentleman whose suit was tattered and appeared that he had a fairly hard life up until this point.  But, as the author looked over this gentleman, his glance came upon his shoes.  They were immaculate.  Brown leather.  Wingtips.  Polished and well taken care of.  This was one of the things that this gentleman held on to and kept up to show the world who he really was.  He was sophisticated.  He was polished.  He was a gentleman.

I've never forgotten that article.  All through my life, I've been drawn to certain things that I felt defined me to the world.  But more importantly, they ground me to my inner self…to my real self.  Surrounding myself with certain objects allows me to remind myself of who I am when the world starts to beat down a little too hard.  Or, even, when the world gives prosperity and goodness.  Extremes are just that, fleeting moments of ups and downs.  Our defining objects help us to remember who we are at the core.

Many people may take this as materialism, but it's not that.  It's deeper.  What defines you doesn't have to be expensive.  It doesn't have to be flashy.  It just has to speak to you deeply; it has to BE you.

All through my life, many of my defining objects have never changed.  And, at my core, rarely do they ever change; you see, I feel that we often know what things define us from a very young age—even if we don't recognize it right away.  Of course, every once in awhile, we find something new from an experience we never conceived.  From a very young age, I've been drawn to office supplies (funny, I know), but more deeply, it pulled to my love of pen and paper.  I love pens.  I collect pens.  I love good paper; there is nothing like setting pen to paper to really feel free.  I have fountain pens, and I love using them and seeing how they each write a little differently across the paper, and how each paper takes the ink differently, too.  I love taking my bottles of ink and filling them (no cartridges here).  There is something wonderful in being present in what you do.  Not taking a ballpoint and using it until it's done, throwing it out, and grabbing another.  But rather, opening the bottle of ink, using the pen to draw up as much as it can, and taking the time to clean off the excess ink.  It's not fast.  It's not convenient.  But it's true.  You are present in that moment…you are grounded.

Part of my pen collection

I love bottled ink! And this hand-made blotter!

Rocks.  I've grown up loving rocks.  I can remember once taking a trip with my family to the Inclined Plane in Johnstown, PA.  For some reason, perhaps just for me (I feel sometimes things are set in your path as you need them), they had an assortment of stones available for purchase.  I remember there being amethyst (I believe that's when I first learned what my birthstone really was), I remember there being quartz, and there were others that have faded from memory.  But I know they were pretty, and I knew from the moment that I saw them, they defined me.  They had an energy about them that truly spoke to me.  They were from a time long before me, and they were pulled from wherever in the world to land in my hand.  They felt good.  They felt worldly.  They felt earthy and deep.

My labradorite and opal desk paperweights…always close to me

Records.  I grew up listening to them on a little child record player at home.  I wore them out.  Sonny & Cher.  Johnny Cash.  Those were my favorites.  I have no idea how my mom and dad didn't get sick of hearing Ring of Fire as I danced around the house.  I lost track of this love for a long time.  Cassettes came along, then CDs.  Then MP3s and other digital formats.  But, there is nothing like having a shelf full of round slabs of vinyl that somehow take a needle and make a beautiful sound.  It's mechanical, it grounds you in the now more than other formats that can play continuously without thought.  When a record side is finished, you must get up, walk over, remove the needle, flip the record, and reset the needle (I use an all-manual record player).  Again, the idea that you need to be in the moment, in the now.

Part of my current record collection

Nothing beats the sound of vinyl

To this day, pens, paper, gemstones, and records still hold such an important part of my heart and being.  There is something about them that simply grounds me in my own person.  They talk to me and they can let the world know, if others are watching, what I think it means to be me.

Do you have any defining objects in your life?  I'd love to hear about them!