Counting your blessings

After a very long week contemplating the many possible ways of losing, wasting and falling short of our own expectations I  have decided to make a U-turn for today and look into the many things that we do have, not only in the material sense but also as resources, knowledge and feelings. You can consider it almost as a part of the process of healing after a relatively painful week. I am not certain of how much was evident in my articles, but one way or another things are looking better now and I would like to share with you some insights.

The starting point for today's trip will be the word "luxury", which has not less than 20 centuries of history. The etymology links it indubitably to the Latin term luxus, meaning "abundance" or "excess", but it is unclear if this is just a figurative use of the other interpretation meaning "bend" or "twist" as in an joint luxation or dislocation. It would not be too much of a stretch (pun intended) to think that an excessive display of riches could be interpreted  by the ancient Romans as a dislocation of the good sense, so even back then it was obvious that prudence was in general the more sensible choice.

Photo: OiMax

Surprisingly (or perhaps not so much once I get to think about it) the term luxury veered by the late Middle Ages in the direction of unrestrained sexual desire, to the point that in some roman languages an evolution of this word is still used for "lust" when talking about the seven deadly sins of Christianity, while excessive eating (which could also be understood as a manifestation of luxury) falls under the label of "gluttony". One way or another, the sexual connotation managed to stay behind and the current English meaning is limited to the prominent display of riches, be it material or otherwise, which is precisely where I am headed.

One remarkable aspect of luxury is that it always implies a certain level of comparison: in a neighborhood where everybody lives in single family homes that is not a luxury, just the standard; of course, compared to the crammed apartments on the other side of town they are in fact luxurious, but there are also gorgeous villas somewhere else which are even more splendid. As a consequence of this kind of comparison anything that lends itself to varying degrees of intensity can be the subject of luxury: social life can be a luxury for those who meet friends every week when compared with the more secluded people who only gather for the big occasions; access to nature and green surfaces can be understood as a luxury that those living in the countryside have in comparison with city dwellers.

The other relevant aspect of luxury is that it is more linked to the abundance and availability of this coveted objects and situations than to their actual use. Most resources in life are limited and therefore subject to the risk of depletion, but as long as this is a distant possibility it can be considered as technically infinite. When somebody buys a can of Iranian caviar it is beyond discussion that their net worth goes immediately down. The luxury lies in the fact that they could do that tens or hundreds of times without worrying about their financial position, but it does not mean that they can do it endlessly: even the fattest bank accounts can go dry.

It is somewhat funny that, although most things and situations can be obtained through money, there are some that cannot or are incompatible with one another: living in a give city gives you the luxury of access to culture, with the many museums, concert halls and libraries, but on the other hand deprives your of access to nature. And although a well-off urbanite could easily drive (or, better yet, get a helicopter) to nature, this already implies a targeted action, some effort to get there, as opposed to the people in the countryside who just have to open their windows and enjoy.

The flip side of all this availability is that often times we do not even make use of the opportunities, confident that they will always be there. It is not uncommon at all that someone visiting from out of town ends up knowing more about the museums in your town than yourself: you know they are there (at least you know about some of them) but somehow you never manage to make time to go there. And then one day you read in the news that the museum that you have intended to visit for more than a decade is finally closing its doors and getting dismantled. Such a waste.

Some months ago I wrote about the importance of appreciation, particularly when the luxuries we enjoy involve people: finding a steaming bowl of soup on our table for lunch is a luxury that these days not many people share, and it is important not only to be aware of the luck we have, but also to show our gratitude to those who make it possible. I also try to count my other blessings on a regular basis even if I do not make use of them that often: living in a house with garden, even if most days I only go out when I am headed for work; having clean air and water around me, which I sometimes waste absentmindedly; the peaceful society I have been born into, where violence is only a rare and localized event; or the technology that allows me to get in contact with my family even if they live far away (although this can also be a curse some times). How do you count your blessings? Leave a comment below if you feel like it. Have a nice week.