A Bright Red Sloop in the Harbor...

This is how American poet Anne Sexton once defined luxury. An informal poll of my friends and family revealed pipedreams of private jets, maids and summer homes. Definitions of luxury are as subjective and varied as the dreams attached. To me, luxuries are not pipedreams unlikely to ever be realized, but a mindset of attainable, non-essentials that contribute to my pleasure and comfort.

I believe that luxury can be separated into sub-groups, the first of which is, “Stuff that is easier to complain about NOT having.” Into this category, I put bubble baths, pedicures and eyebrow waxes. None of these are “big-ticket” items. If they were a true priority in my life, they could be attained with relative ease. It would take no effort for me to lock myself in the bathroom, light scented candles and hang a sign on the door that says, “If you dare knock, something had better be bleeding, burning or broken!” Apparently, these things aren't all that important, or I would pamper myself a bit more.

The second sub-group I call “Back in Black” luxuries. These are things that seem like novelties in the beginning, but when the reality hits that you couldn’t financially survive without them, it stings. These are things like shopping at garage sales; fun when you’re 16, a little harder to reconcile at 36. A true luxury for me would be shopping at Target and not worrying about it. Coupon clipping also goes into this category. I would love to shop at Hen House and stop running between bakery thrift stores and double-coupon days. Creative bill paying also goes here; comfort would be not paying bills based on which ones were in danger of being shut off.

The luxuries I have now though, far outweigh the above and are the most dear. I call them “Karmatic Luxuries”. These are home, family, truth, beauty and goodwill. They are luxuries because when I can share these with people around me, I immediately receive both pleasure and comfort. The true reward, however, is that I am also “paying it forward”. Every time I see one of my children reach out to help a stranger, or comfort a friend, I know how blessed I am. If I can inspire people around me to keep faith, and not lose hope, I am paying it forward. If, by example, my children see that material rewards should be the pleasant by-product of a life well-lived, not the purpose, then I will happily clip coupons forever.

Is my definition of luxury today different than ten years ago? Absolutely. I would expect no less of life’s journey. Do I expect it to change in the future? Certainly. As I stated in my opening, luxuries are attainable, and as I do that, I expect new desires to fill those vacancies. I think the key to success is to recognize that wants are different than needs, and if you can separate the two, a life of luxury isn't that hard to realize.