Treasure looks different to everyone.
A KEY WITHOUT A LOCK
The locks on those doors were changed years ago, and it hasn’t been your address for a while, but to you, that place will always be your forever home. The obsolete key still opens something for you though, when it jingles against your other keys, and you think of how safe you felt inside that place you can’t visit anymore, unless you close your eyes. If you carry one, you know how important it is to make people feel welcome, wherever you are.
A TOY TOO PERFECT TO PLAY WITH
Pristine in its package, joints unbent by human hands, it represents an ideal you aspire to embody—a mint condition that’s impossible for any human to attain. If you possess one of these, you are nostalgic for a place that never was, and you respect and practice proud restraint.
CLOTHES FROM A LOST BODY
It certainly doesn’t fit you, and the former owner certainly doesn’t fit into your today—at least, not neatly. But you keep it folded in the back of your least-used drawer, where it softly and only occasionally reminds you of their no-longer-presence. If you have one of these, you know that ghosts are real, and you realize that you’re one of them to at least one someone else. Â
THE PAPERWORK THAT PROVES YOU’RE YOU
Diplomas and certificates, report cards and love notes—who would any of us be without them? When unsure of ourselves, at least we have proof that we are somehow worthy of paperwork. If you treasure your documents above all other objects, you are skeptical of everything, including yourself.
A SMOOTH LITTLE ROCK
Beachcombers and archeologists know that curious beauty is always waiting to be found, and so do you. Why you picked it up—its shape or color or gloss—are less important than the memory you have of finding it, or it being handed to you by someone who wanted to give you a manifestation of their enthusiasm for the world. If you carry such a jewel as a talisman, you know that what makes something precious is not the material it’s made of, but of the energy embedded in it.
A MUG WEARING A DEAD COMPANY’S LOGO
You tried. You all did. But it wasn’t enough, or it wasn’t exactly the right thing to try, or both. But you learned things—sometimes horribly disgusting things, sometimes magically brilliant things—and when you kiss that cheaply-made ceramic, you know that trying again is what you must do. If you cherish one of these, you’re incapable of ever giving up entirely.
A WEAPONIZED TOOL
A sharp knife, a ready pen, a ring with a sharp edge, a piece of feisty code, a gangster’s number on a scrap of paper—if you treasure something mainly because it can be used to defend you, and if you know where that tool is at all times—then you are someone who defines themselves on what they can do, not who they simply are.
A COLLAR ONLY ASHES CAN WEAR
Sometimes with a nametag, sometimes with a bell, always a dander-marked treasure. You may not be a wizard but a familiar is constantly, invisibly, at your side, still giving you all they ever had. If you keep one of these collars, you have been truly loved.
SCARS OF HONOR
When body skin was marked, you became yourself. And so you trace the impacts with your finger, barely remembering how much it hurt to acquire, but reveling in how good to feels to own. If a scar is your treasure, you understand that nobody is perfect, and nobody should ever even aim to be.
A SECRET
Be it a mischievous kindness, a wicked vice, an unpopular opinion, or a piece or potent information you shouldn’t know but cannot forget—If your secret is your treasure, you are more of an observer than a participant, more of a loner than a leader. The only thing that could ever matter to you as much as your secret is the magically trustworthy person you might someday dare to tell it to. Â
Good grief, Jessica. This one hit me. What does it mean that I have at least one in every category?
Wonderful piece of writing.