Fridays With Dale: Wabi-Sabi

Dale Angel



By Dale Angel



Wabi-Sabi led to Shabby Chic. I followed them.

The Japanese concept is so soothing: Wabi, meaning humble; Sabi, meaning beauty.

I entertained Shabby Chic first though. We moved out of the tent to the over hauled hen house with a window. Using a wire coat hanger I straightened with my hands, I placed it across the nails at each end of the window. It made a curtain rod for the drapes that consisted of a cut off skirt of my favorite dress. I loved my home and this beauty of the skirt over the window. I loved it every time I looked at it. Today this is called Shabby Chic. Then it was called being resourceful.

Later in life, my new home was filled with museum pieces I had picked up at yard sales. All the out dated old antique beauties that had lost their moment in the sun…like me. It was difficult to be enthusiastic over some of the stuff of my era, but I made the leap.

I had met Wabi-Sabi earlier. Like some love affairs, we never made the connection until we were more mature. It was love at our first introduction. Looking at life through ages of serenity, beauty and peace, it came with humbleness. I moved out on Shabby Chic.  We had our beautiful moments together. I think I out grew Shabby Chic.

 I moved in Wabi-Sabi that came with old hand made pieces older than time. It took great powerful lifts to move the stuff. We lived together with humility and beauty. Old Age traveled with us, it was peaceful and warm as I polished and caressed ancient pieces with history.

 Wabi-Sabi became unappreciated when my toes met friendly fire…the piano leg… and I almost crippled myself. My dad’s cuss words came out of my mouth.

I couldn’t move anything without calling for reinforcements. After waiting for a long time, maybe two days, when help did arrive, I threw it out and life became easier.

I love my new conceptual design home. I can move a whole four drawer chest with my little finger. It’s on wheels.  I got it at Wal-Mart. It’s plastic, and I have one for all the junk that multiply at my house. I have one to catch the books and magazines and papers that get away from me I stash them in my little plastic drawers. I can even throw in my shoes from the middle of the room where I kicked them off. I have handy plastic containers everywhere, even under the sink.

My new conceptual design home is not much bigger than the hen house; it’s called a mobile home. The wheel chair and walker look like they have moved in permanently.  I’ve had the experience of living with my former loves, Shabby Chic and Wabi-Sabi.

These days, I’m more comfortable with Youth, the detached clean uncluttered living, with few things. Instead of pictures, I have notes thumb tacked to the walls to help me remember what day it is and what pills are due.

When I look out at the trees and sky I see Wabi-Sabi out in nature, I don’t bring it in the house anymore. Shabby Chic is all around me I just visit others houses they still have the strength for that stuff. My little tin palace has lots of windows. I live in shameless luxury.




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