My sister’s pride and joy is the shelf on her vanity that houses her perfume collection. Lined up in a neat row, they have been collected over birthdays and holidays. They catch the light in the morning. They also, I have noticed, collect dust.Â
We tend to do this with many material objects. The good china stays in the cabinets. The nice dress hangs in the back of the closet. The candle with the best scent remains unlit.Â
Here is an uncomfortable truth: while time is infinite, the time we have in this life is not. As people, we operate under the assumption that there will always be another tomorrow, another special occasion more worthy of our best than the present moment. The reality is, life has an uncanny habit of passing by while we wait for it to “really” begin.Â
The logic seems reasonable — save the best for the special occasions. But what would happen if we reversed that line of thought? What if instead, we chose to use the best stuff to make everyday occasions special? Even a “regular” day feels different when you wear the perfume you love.Â
The urge to save is rooted in something deeper than practicality; it is an internalization of the idea that indulgence must be earned, that we should only enjoy the finest when we feel “deserving” or the moment feels “worthy.” It is a scarcity mindset masquerading as prudence: the fear that if we use something now, there will not be enough later. The fear that, if we enjoy today, tomorrow will not be special.Â
We wait for the “perfect” moment to arrive, but in the meantime, our belongings become clutter. Ironically, the clutter often exceeds what we can feasibly use, even for the special occasions we are saving for. We tell ourselves we are keeping options, but when the moment comes, we can only wear one dress, light one candle, choose one thing. What is worse, we rob ourselves of the small joys that make life feel full. Is there actually a perfect time to start doing something you love? Is it worth deferring happiness — putting off the potential of the present — for a future that only exists in imagination?
The real tragedy is not using something up, but never using it at all. There is beauty in wearing something out. It means that the object fulfilled its purpose; that it was lived with, appreciated and a part of your life. Using something up is evidence of a life well lived, and a reminder that joy does not always come from preservation but from letting things serve their role. The tragedy lies in arriving at the end with full drawers, having spent life in a state of self-imposed deprivation. It is the realization that you were waiting for permission that you could have granted yourself all along.Â
So wear the nice perfume now. Not for a special occasion, but because this morning, this life, this weekday is the occasion. Use the nice china and light the expensive candles. These are acts of presence, small declarations that this life is worthy of our best.Â
My sister’s perfume collection is beautiful to look at. But perfume is meant to be worn, not gazed upon. It should not be reserved for the future. It belongs to now.Â
Because now is all we ever really have. It deserves the good stuff.