Owner’s Manuals by Linda Stowe
How many owner’s manuals do you have in your house? You probably don’t know. Nobody does. They come into our lives every time we buy a new appliance, anything from an alarm clock to a refrigerator. They come in various shapes and sizes, as voluminous as a novel or as brief as a folded piece of paper. And they always have the same information provided in a number of languages, making them larger than you need. That 25-page booklet that came with your new flashlight probably contains only two pages in English.
Initially you will keep them because they provide assembly instructions. Then you keep them because they contain some kind of vague warrantee language, so you set them aside to read later. But of course, you never do. And soon they are joined by subsequent owner’s manuals, also waiting to serve their purpose. And over the years the pile grows. You never purge them because they might be important, that is unless you’re the wanton kind of person who tears those tags off pillows and mattresses. Not here to judge, just saying.
I remember once having a conversation with my sister when I pulled out a desk drawer in her house that was so full that not one more sheet of paper could be inserted. I asked her what was in that drawer, and she casually said they’re her owner’s manuals, as if everyone has such a stash in their house (and, of course, they do).
I was newly into my Swedish Death Cleaning phase, so I told my sister she should throw every one of those manuals away. She was aghast. She couldn’t do that. What if she needed one. What for, I asked. If something stopped working or needed a part. She’d need the manual for that. I pointed out that all that information is available online. My brother replaced a part on my oven door and never once asked me for the manual.
Well, what about the warranty, my sister countered. She’d need that if something happened. I asked if she has ever used an appliance warranty. Well, no, she admitted. I asked her what she did if something broke. She said she just got a new one. So, I concluded, you really don’t need these manuals. I reached down to scoop up a stack of manuals and my sister made a lunge to stop me. I realized that she really did need those manuals. I’m not sure why or how, but they gave her peace of mind. In case something happened.
~~~~~~
Polly here.
As I read this, I realized how right Linda was about all of this. There have been rare occasions when I’ve dug out an Owner’s Manual for help. Rare. If any.
But we keep them for assurance.
Assurances. They are funny, really. We do things in our lives to offer us assurances.
We may never see the outcome of our actions for these things, but we do them anyway because we know that we are better off if we do.
Eating fruits and vegetables.
Buckling our seat belts.
Changing the filter in our furnace.
Waterproofing our leather boots.
And hundreds of other things.
We do these things to ensure a confidence, either in ourselves or in our environments.
As for owner’s manuals? I’ll probably hang on to mine.
As Linda said. For peace of mind. Just in case something happens.
“”””””””””””””
“A guarantee is only as good as the person who gives it.” – Unknown
“”””””””””””””
“Peace of mind is the ultimate goal in life. We live to be happy, and happiness is found in tranquility and peace.” – Byron Pulsifer
“”””””””””””””
“The greatest weapon against stress is our ability to choose one thought over another.” – William James
“”””””””””””””