see? perfectly fine.

see? perfectly fine.

I

t was sitting on the curb before the sun came up on Friday. I passed it in the dim light on my morning walk with the dog.

“Free leather chair. Mmmm, comfy!” the sign proclaimed.

I decided to inspect the chair closely because I felt like I owed the writer of that sign at least
another moment of my time. Who takes the time to take Sharpie to paper try to promote a free item that they’ve abandoned to the trash-picking, early-morning zombie hordes—a number to which I must now admit I belong? I already knew the answer: someone ambivalent about their decision to release their old friend Chair to the vagaries of fate.

Squinting at it in the half-light, my initial inclination was to agree with the writer of the sign; it did look comfy in a late ‘90s, Rooms-to-Go kind of way. The chair also looked fairly yellow. Not cream or discolored, the result of sitting in someone’s smoky den since having been delivered by the Rooms to Go truck some years back, but definitely unapologetically yellow (butter not mustard).

I’ve been thinking a lot about money and the concept of ‘more.’ I can only speak for myself, but if money is on my mind, it’s not because I’m doing any spiritual heavy-lifting about cultivating contentment in whatever circumstances I might be finding myself at present. We have made compromises in order to manage our childcare in a way with which we are comfortable. I still feel as though the choices we have made continue to serve the greatest good for the five of us, but they don’t really leave a lot of room for buying new furniture.

Rigidity can blind us to abundance, though. Who’s to say how colorful our lives might be—how much more rich we might be in time with the people we actually care about—if we were willing to leave our preconceived, Pottery Barn ideas of what our world is supposed to look like out on the curb?

I sent Roy and Scott out on a scouting expedition after the sun came up. They came back with the chair loaded up in the back of the truck.

Today, Scott sat in our new, free chair before saying, ‘Do you think this chair used to have two more feet on it? It kind of wants to…slant down in the front.’ Then he slid directly off of the obviously-listing chair and onto the floor—intentionally, but it was still pretty funny all the same.

We’ll make it work. Scott says you can totally buy extra feet at the store. And didn’t I tell you? Yellow is my favorite color.