Coca-Cola & Luxury

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My current thoughts about luxury began to come to me when one of the Dondo missionaries offered me Coca-Cola.

"Do you want some Coke?" He asked,

And I said,"yes", even though I don't like the taste of Coke. But it is a somewhat hard-to-get variety of soda, and it was served over ice, in a glass that I wouldn't have to wash afterward. It was a symbol of luxury, and I took it and savored it as such.

Luxury is such a funny thing. When you have it, you don't care about it. But when you tip your world sidewise and get spilled out into the unfamiliar, you relish each item of luxury - and its' accompanying illusion of control - to the very fullest. You know the luxury won't last...in fact, you wouldn't even want it to, because then you'd be used to it and it wouldn't be special any more. You know that the control isn't real...and you're glad of that, too, because you've long ago realized that life doesn't work when you're the one trying to control everything. But, just for the moment, you sit back and you look about, and you think to yourself, 'here is luxury, and here I am in the midst of it. Isn't it splendid?'

Nice sofas. Sitting in a proper chair, at a proper table, eating your meal from white china. Steak. Coffee served in absurdly, impractically small cups.White sugar. Hot showers. Cheese. Bacon. Large-screen TV.

Most of these are things I would have scoffed at before. 'You don't need that!' I would have stated. And that's true, of course. But it's the fact that they're unnecessary - extras - that makes them so special. The majority of things in life are necessities, and it's the occasional frippery that makes a person feel that they're living. Not just surviving, but actually living.

Luxuries.

Not things to be grasped, or sought after. Not goals. But gifts. Gifts to be accepted gratefully and savored with delight.