The Magic of Well-Worn Things

My husband Rob still has a teddy bear he had as a boy. One eye is missing. His overalls are worn and frayed. Stitches are visible in several places where stuffing once poked through. His fur is worn off in places. Smoke, as Rob calls him, started his life as Smokey the Bear, complete with hat, shirt, badge and overalls. He might have been lost forever if Rob’s mother hadn’t kept him in storage. But Rob and Smoke were reunited many years ago when his mother was going through some old things at the house where he grew up.

Rob was delighted to see his beloved bear. In fact, Smoke currently graces our mudroom, sitting proudly on a small shelf in our entryway. He is a well-loved bear who has seen a lot.

All of us have special objects in our lives like Smoke. Things we keep despite their flaws and imperfections or maybe because of them. A well-worn pair of jeans that we loved in college. A special jacket or comfortable pair of boots. A stuffed animal or favorite necklace. A dog-eared copy of an inspiring book or volume of poetry.

The wear and tear, the lines and creases, the faded colors, the crinkled pages, the tarnished finish, are all part of our life’s tapestry. These flaws show us the passage of time and the unique way we’ve loved these treasures through the years.

I hope I’m not alone when I say I feel the magic in well-worn things. They are no less precious to me because they are no longer shiny and new. In fact, I love them more because of their imperfections. Their age shows the part they’ve played in the life I’ve lived.

I see well-worn things in nature too. An old tree riddled with scars, cracks and crevices. A well-worn path through the forest littered with leaves and footprints. Rocks with dark spots or rough edges. I feel the magic in these things too, their unique markings sparking my curiosity. I want to know more about what they’ve seen, where they’ve been, what they’ve been through.

Writing about this is helping me to face my own imperfections as I age. Can I see the grey hairs, the lines on my forehead or the creases on my face the same way? Can I see that I, too, am a well-loved soul just like my husband’s teddy bear? That I’ve been bruised, sewn back together and I am still here to talk about it? Can I appreciate these “flaws” as another part of my own life’s tapestry?

That is an interesting question and one that will likely take the rest of my life to answer.

What about you? Do you have well-worn objects you cherish beyond reason? Do you feel their magic? How can that magic add to your life’s tapestry?