The Souls Of Inanimate Objects

November 11, 2007 on 7:18 pm | In Just Funny, Mind of the Minister |

So I go to pick up a chaise I just purchased from Home Goods and I’ve got it in the back of a friend’s truck. I run into a woman I know in the community (not my church, but a church-goer) and she stops to chat. “Did you just buy that?” she asks. I look over at the chaise and I say,very casual-like, “Oh no. That’s just my couch. I’m just taking it for a little ride to get some fresh air.” She looks at me incredulously but I’m totally dead-pan. “It’s such a nice day,” I add.
She gets an expression like she wants to laugh but maybe that would be rude, so she stays silent. We look at each other.

“I think that all inanimate objects have souls,” I say. “So I think it’s important that they not stay cooped up in the house for too long.” She composes herself, remembering that I am a Professional Spiritual Person and I must actually believe this stuff.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do next week when it’s the bed’s turn to go out. I’ll have to borrow a bigger truck.”

She finally allows her eyes to express her opinion of me: she was worried that I was insane, and now she knows I’m just sort of insane.

“You’re pulling my leg, right,” she asks. And I admit that yes, I am. And then she says, “But for a minute there, even though I thought you were crazy, it was sort of a sweet idea. I mean, that objects have souls of their own.”

I tell her that it’s actually not my idea at all, that the Celts and other indigenous religious peoples believe this and so do I (although not to the extend that I take my furniture out for Sunday drives) and that she might like to read Thomas Moore’s book The Re-Enchantment of Everyday Life if the idea appeals to her. She says she will because she really liked Care of the Soul by the same author. And we say goodbye and she says to me, “I always heard that you were crazy, but in a good way. I can’t believe you’ve lasted this long in this little town, but we love having you here.” I respond that my couch and I are very touched by her sentiments, and we crack up and say goodbye.

The chaise looks great in the living room. It looks like it’s sitting there thinking, “FINALLY, I’m in just the right place and off that stupid retail floor.” It’s very elegant brown and I’ve got my favorite deep red chenille throw on it, plus two pillows I’ve had for years that just happen to look great with it. It’s very sturdy and I plan to spend many happy and calm hours reading and watching movies in it. I’ve been looking for years for just the right chaise. I’m stupidly happy about it.

Mr. Chaise

9 Comments »

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  1. Ah, you should take a day-off drive to my 200-year old Rectory here in Connecticut. This house was downright depressed when we moved in. (We think it was lonesome and feeling neglected.) It made gloomy spooky sounds and looked dirty no matter what. Once we moved in, arranged furniture, and started sweeping cobwebs, pruning bushes, and making noise in it, I swear it perked up and started feeling better. It really feels like a different house now. One of my parishoners told me she thought the house had been depressed and felt better when people lived here.

    I don’t know if I would call it a soul, but I do believe it has its own spirit. It’s a much wilder, different sort of spirit than humans or animals, but this house does have feelings.

    Let’s not submit this comment to my Bishop, eh? :-)

    Comment by Rev Bee — November 11, 2007 #

  2. Trust me, PB–it’s very happy too.

    Comment by Patrick McLaughlin — November 11, 2007 #

  3. Sounds wonderful! And if YOU would like a book recommendation for whilst you are lolling on your chaise … “Touch” by Rudy Rasmus. He’s a minister and seems to be the type you like most — the type that’s willing to roll up his sleeves and really work for “the least of these.”

    Comment by Lizard Eater — November 11, 2007 #

  4. PeaceBang, you should see “Lars and the Real Girl.” A socially-inept man develops a relationship with a blow-up doll. He walks around with it and introduces the doll (Bianca) to everybody in his small town as his girlfriend.He brings it to a party. He takes it to church. They all kind of go along with it, because he is obviously working out his anxieties about relationship and, it IS his first girlfriend after all. Talk about an inanimate object with a soul. There are some really hilarious moments with the doll, as well as some very poignant ones!

    (This is the movie Mark and I saw after you and I left Home Goods).

    Comment by pp le c — November 12, 2007 #

  5. So, sometimes when I am in the supermarket… I pick up a can of something, let’s say… Baked Beans. Then, if I reach for another can instead of the one I touched first… the first can calls out to me with hurt feelings. So then I buy the first one. Sometimes, the second can gets upset and I have to buy that one too. I return home and my partner asks me… “Why do you buy two of everything!?” to which I OBVIOUSLY reply… “They were on sale!”

    Comment by Michael — November 12, 2007 #

  6. Don’t let the advertisers hear about this!

    Comment by h sofia — November 12, 2007 #

  7. My partner tells me that my relationship to inanimate objects is co-dependant. Wait until I tell her about you!

    You crack me up PB.

    Comment by god guurrll — November 12, 2007 #

  8. Ah, at last, a worthy successor to The Deacon’s Masterpiece!

    Comment by fausto — November 12, 2007 #

  9. I came across this post by accident, and it brought a big grin to my face. Thank you for sharing, and thanks for the book recommendation, too.

    Comment by BrĂ­ghid — June 10, 2008 #

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