be wise – decant your wines
(sapias, vina liques)
Horace Ode 1.11
Welcome,
My father didn’t like packaging on the table. Beer was poured into glasses; milk into pitchers; the pickles and olives taken from their jars and put into ramekins; the cookies for dessert removed from their packages and arranged on a plate.*
Things were decanted, moved from one form to another.
In his ode, Tu ne quaesieris (Do not ask), Horace advises Leuconae** to stop worrying about the future. Carpe diem, he writes, “seize the day”; vina liques, “decant your wines.”
Carpe diem – hold fast to the moments we have. My father’s habit of eschewing packaging at the table became a ritual of the present moment, of creating beauty in the ordinary, of slowing down time.
I was, and still am, a worrier – and I practice this ritual of decanting to bring myself into the present space and time. Here I am; here is the physical world around me. Here is the beauty and moment of this day.
When we practice decanting, we slow down time by creating small rituals of meaning.
I’d love to hear about the rituals you practice!
In decanting,
Emily
* I still do this. If you come to my house for a cup of tea, you will be brought a pot of tea, a little pitcher of cream, a tiny plate of lemon slices, and a bowl of sugar cubes.
** I feel obliged to note that this woman’s name translates into “Empty Head,” and although she is most likely not a real person, even ancient sexism feels icky.