Most mornings, my breakfast is the same: granola with milk or yogurt, and a cup of coffee. The granola goes in one of my blue bowls. My coffee is on a three mug rotation.
The bowl is just the right size for granola – a gift from my older son. The mugs vary in size, with a different width lip on each; all three were gifts as well. When I drink my coffee, I think of the person who gave me the mug, and I am thankful for their presence in my life. I don’t need a mug to be thankful for the ones who gave them, but they are an every third day reminder of someone I love.
It’s unwise to get over-attached to breakable things that are in constant use, or to mistake the mug for the person who gave it. If all three break tomorrow, it would be the end of three mugs – not the end of the world or a loss of the people who gave them to me. I think it’s well worth the risk of breaking them to keep them in constant use. After all, what good is a mug that never makes it out of the cupboard?
Letting go of what doesn’t matter: too closely associating an object with a person.
Loving what does: thinking of the people I love, and being thankful for them.