I had this plate. It was part of the collection Rob and I received when we were married. We've had these plates going on 18 years now. This particular salad plate became chipped along the rim where the design was so it was very noticable, to me anyway. I didn't like it.
Over the years we've added different styles of plates to our collection. We have about 4 different colors and designs happening now. I dream of having things match however, I can't imagine having everything look the same. I make no sense.
This plate, this chipped plate, had been bothering me for weeks, for months. Probably years! I don't know any more. I don't know why I was hanging on to this "defective" plate when we had a dozen others to use. I would even take this particular plate and put in on the bottom of the pile in the cabinet. I didn't want to serve food on it for concern the receiver would assume I think less of them by giving them food on a imperfect plate. (Do you really want to know how my brain works? Probably not.)
So I did something. I placed that "broken" plate in the recycling bin. I got rid of it. Done, gone. Bye bye. I'm surprised by the relief I feel when I reach for dishes now.
The thing is, this chipped plate might be a metaphor for something else in my life. It might be, I don't know. All I know is, I got rid of something that bugged me.
Do you have something that nags at you? Do you have a handle that jiggles? Or a light bulb that's been out for far too long? Fix it.
It's the little things.
Over the years we've added different styles of plates to our collection. We have about 4 different colors and designs happening now. I dream of having things match however, I can't imagine having everything look the same. I make no sense.
This plate, this chipped plate, had been bothering me for weeks, for months. Probably years! I don't know any more. I don't know why I was hanging on to this "defective" plate when we had a dozen others to use. I would even take this particular plate and put in on the bottom of the pile in the cabinet. I didn't want to serve food on it for concern the receiver would assume I think less of them by giving them food on a imperfect plate. (Do you really want to know how my brain works? Probably not.)
So I did something. I placed that "broken" plate in the recycling bin. I got rid of it. Done, gone. Bye bye. I'm surprised by the relief I feel when I reach for dishes now.
The thing is, this chipped plate might be a metaphor for something else in my life. It might be, I don't know. All I know is, I got rid of something that bugged me.
Do you have something that nags at you? Do you have a handle that jiggles? Or a light bulb that's been out for far too long? Fix it.
It's the little things.