Some objects hold so much more than meets the eye.
Lately, two vessels have found their way back into my life. Very different in appearance and purpose, yet both seem to carry something beyond their physical form. Memory. Love. Connection. And perhaps a little magic.
The first is an extraordinary silver bowl I discovered locked away in a drawer while clearing out my dad's apartment recently. Many treasured family mementos are missing, so I am excited to find it and I remembered it immediately.
For years, it held a place of honor at parties and family celebrations. A true masterpiece, handcrafted by a dear family friend and gifted silversmith from a single sheet of sterling silver, lined with gold. One of a kind.
And there it was, tucked away in the darkness.
When I brought it home, I polished it. I had the strangest feeling that it was happy to be freed. Ready to be seen again, appreciated, and part of life.
I've found myself drawn to it ever since.
In Traditional Chinese Medicine, metal is the element associated with grief and letting go. I find that connection especially meaningful. Here is this magnificent metal vessel, once part of so many joyful occasions, now offering me an unexpected sense of comfort in my grief.
As though something of my dad, and our happy memories from all those years together, still lives within it.
Another Vessel, Another Story
Recently, I found myself returning to another treasure.
A wonderfully funky green glass cordial set I discovered while clearing out my mom's apartment four years ago, after her death.
It's not particularly my style. Nor is it especially practical for everyday life.
But something about it called to me.
Green was my mother's favorite color. And whenever I look at this piece, I imagine my gorgeous mom entertaining in another era, something straight out of Mad Men. The conversations, the laughter, the clinking glasses.
It's quirky, theatrical, and full of personality.
Recently, I filled the glass decanter with presence water, infusing it with intention to use for strength and ceremony.
An object from my mother's past, now becoming part of my own spiritual practice.
I love that.
The Energy of What We Keep
As an energy healer, I often think about what we carry, not just physically, but emotionally and energetically.
We carry experiences, relationships, joys, and losses. Some nourish us. Others weigh heavily, sometimes without our even realizing it.
And then there are the things we choose to keep.
A photograph. A piece of jewelry. An old handwritten note. A bowl. A glass decanter.
Objects that might mean very little to someone else, but to us hold entire worlds.
I don't believe we need to keep everything to preserve a connection. What’s in our hearts will always remain there.
But- sometimes, a familiar object becomes a bridge between past and present, reminding us not only of someone we've lost, but of the life and love we shared.
And sometimes, giving an old treasure a new purpose can feel like a small act of healing.
What We Hold, What We Release
As we move deeper into autumn, nature reminds us that holding on and letting go are both part of life.
The trees release their leaves, but their roots remain. What matters most is not always what we can see.
These two vessels belonged to two people I loved deeply. They witnessed celebrations, conversations, and countless ordinary moments that have become extraordinary in their absence.
Now they live with me.
Not tucked away in drawers, but visible, appreciated, and woven into my life.
They don't take away the emptiness of loss. But they bring me comfort, beauty, and a sense of connection that's difficult to put into words.
And perhaps that's the real magic.
A Reflection
Is there an object in your life that holds a special connection to someone you love?
Perhaps this season is an invitation to bring it out of the drawer, dust it off, and let it become part of your life again.
Not simply as a reminder of what was, but as a celebration of the love that remains.