IS "IT" WORTH "IT"?

For such a little question, it sure is loaded - particularly when you consider that two tiny pronouns bear the load. One "it" carries your purchase, the other your price. They are your protagonist subject and your antagonist object, and their relationship is, well, complicated.

What is your second "it": Time? Money? Risk? And if it's risk, what form does that take: health, reputation, faith, ego? Sometimes, it is a combination. Always, it is what is being expended, sacrificed, put on the line. And to meet that measure of worth, that first "it" better be something pretty special.

I know I'm not the only one feeling particularly worn down by the pervasiveness of this question in the last two years. In anomalous and unrelenting ways, we have faced the kind of decision-making that constantly attempts to balance - or even perhaps detect a suitable imbalance. We weigh the prudent and the pragmatic against a likelihood to satisfy or gratify. Often, we pit the head versus the heart. Lately, it also feels like the science versus the soul.

A recent reach for some crystal "old fashioned" glasses, oddly enough, offered a metaphorical answer. Unwrapping them at a wedding shower years ago, I was struck first by their beauty, but it was quickly followed by their impracticality. I'm not a big home-cocktail person. Sensing my failure to see their function, the gift-giver suggested that I use them as everyday glassware, offering even the simple experience of sipping water a feeling of special intention, perhaps even extravagance. I wasn't sure I would follow the advice.

But when the glow of the wedding and honeymoon had faded, and I found myself in the post-party routine of life, I conceded one afternoon to iced tap water from the fancy old fashioned. The weight of the crystal grounded me in the moment, while the texture of its pattern made every new grip on it a surprise. The clink of the ice cubes quieted the more complicated noises in my head. And, yes, somehow the water tasted better - more crisp, pure, refreshing. The glass had surely been expensive. The set took up some precious real estate in my cabinet. And every piece had to be hand-washed. But I would take that grand set of four over a nondescript dozen any day of the week.

Maybe that's our approach during these times when that pesky latter "it" comes with more frequency and force. There is a higher cost - real or perceived, certain or uncertain. So, we choose our former "it" more mindfully - but also with more gumption and gusto.

Let's produce that big event, travel to that stunning locale, and pull out all the stops. Let's go for quality over quantity, limited luxury over recurrent thrift, unshakeable inspiration over fleeting revelry.

I know that an event is truly impactful when it moves a person's heart, and that movement is most enduring when it is mobilized by all the senses. I also know that, right now, we are conditioned more for caution, and scaled-down feels safer. But that is gulping tepid water from a flimsy vessel. Let's sip from the good glassware. It will be worth it.