Minimalism Life

It was an absolute impulse buy … in the shape of a cactus … and I HAD to have it! I promised myself that I’d use it EVERY day.

You see, my dream is to live in Arizona, and I had this notion that if I surrounded myself with all things “cactus,” these reminders would then spur the dream into a reality at a faster pace. One problem with the cookie jar, however, was that the life-span of a cookie in my home negates any said cookie from needing a shelter. Now what?

I went out bought several small bags of sand and decorative rocks to fill the cookie jar and placed a large pillar candle (also purchased for the project) in the center. I never burned the candle, but I dusted it every week … for a year. Enough of that.

It next morphed into a planter for, what else, a cactus! I purchased a small barrel cactus, some special cactus dirt (because I threw all the previous sand into the garden,) and more bags of decorative rocks (ditto.) Of course I couldn’t use the cookie jar’s lid, so it was stored in a drawer … just in case. The cactus lasted about eight months, because a cookie jar doesn’t have a drainage hole in the bottom, and basically I drowned the poor desert plant. I washed out the jar, found the lid, and deliberated on its next life.

Since it was close to the holidays, I decided it would become our Christmas tree! YES! I’ll decorate it with lights (purchased,) some desert-type ornaments (purchased,) and a cool light for the top in the shape of a sun (also purchased.) I’ll use it EVERY YEAR, I declared! But it was not to be, because I needed a vase after the holidays.

It became a vase. Once again the lid went into storage. Bear in mind, this cookie jar was HUGE, and I would have to buy at least three to five bouquets of flowers every two weeks to fill it. This would result in having to get a second job, and possibly a gardener at this point. On to the next thing.

It would most certainly make a GRAND tea bag receptacle! I would store my assorted teas in it to peruse each day at noon. Found the lid. Once again, this thing was HUUUGE, so finding a tea bag meant dumping it all out on the counter, choosing, then cleaning up the tea dust upon completion. By then I was too tired to make the tea and just wanted a nap instead. Now what?

I then elected it to be a cat food container. How Cute!!! I poured in the dry cat food and stored it in the cupboard. Done. Went to bed. The next day about a million ants thought this was an excellent idea as well. Took it outside, dumped the cat food (and the ants) into the garden, contemplated life in general … and what to do next with the cookie jar.

That night, I began to thoroughly wash the cookie jar for its succeeding duty. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking. And just as I finished drying its massive inner expanse, it slipped. Down it went to the floor, shattering into enough pieces that no amount of epoxy would resurrect a purpose. I looked at the green glass bits, sighed, and thought, I could make a mosaic tile! It will hold hot dishes from the oven! I’ll buy a wooden board base, some wood glue, a hammer, some grout, sponges, brushes, waterproof sealant, and then I took a breath. No, it’s done, and I’m done.

What I have learned is that time and money are the biggest consequences of a moment of excess desire. I didn’t need the cookie jar originally, and the time and money I put into it wasn’t worth the effort in making it something it wasn’t … I was just trying to justify my want of a thing. Now, I’m all for repurposing, but I decided that repurposing for the sake of saving face for a poor decision is counterproductive to my idea of a minimalist journey. So off it goes … to the garden … buried until a treasure hunter of the future says, “Hey, let’s glue this thing back together and see what it was used for.”