Hmmm, this is hard as I expend effort not getting attached to “stuff.”
- My God Jar – for me, it really is about getting something out of my head and seeing that the universe takes care of it. Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t, and often enough it becomes moot by itself.
- My Artist’s Way books – right now, these are my guiding light. Really.
- My disappearing TARDIS mug – I’ve wanted one since I was a little girl. So I gave it to myself. Every time I see it, I squee a little.
- My protection charm jewelry – I actually do feel a little safer when I wear it
- My wedding ring – It represents a commitment to a partnership, but it also reminds me of the struggle I have between social acceptability and my true desires. It also makes me wish the bike Mike bought me years ago wasn’t stolen, as it was the most remarkable of his romantic gestures.
- Tiny! spoons – I get entirely too amused by tiny, tiny teaspoons, so Mike bought me a pack of them. I use them for mixing measures of goat’s milk and for eating ice cream slowly. I get a small giggle whenever I see them.
- The Daria print that hangs behind my desk – it was given to me by friends I met in Daria fandom; while life has made us less present in each others’ lives, I still cherish and feel grateful for the experience I have had and still have with that connection.
- My book boxes – I have these boxes that look like books; I buy one a year. I use these to store my journals and the like. While it’s not a particularly clever disguise, it satisfies me – these banal book-boxes that contain my secrets in plain sight. It’s more about knowing the weight of the boxes is the weight of my journals, which is the weight of my inner life.
- My topaz ring – It was my sweet 16 ring, that my parents gave me a day late, alongside wilted roses after the dog ate my birthday cake. I wish they’d had the sense to just throw out the roses, but my family was always so wrapped up in themselves that they couldn’t even conceive I had emotions about anything, least of all on my birthday. It’s a yellow topaz, which have been mined out of existence. You can only get them on antique rings. It’s my birthright, enough so that I had my father move it to his safe deposit box so my sister couldn’t steal it and pawn it. It’s the only sign I have at all that my family at any point respected and valued my life.
- Tiny Willendorf – a woman who was a member of MSUPagan brought a tiny Willendorf back from a festival for me. She said that its unapologetic fat-and-sexy energy reminded her of me. I’ve always cherished it, and I do find its presence reassuring.