Joy Is a Form of Usefulness Too
October 3, 2026
John and I own two plasma globes.
They are not restrained, timeless pieces of design. They do not solve a household problem. They glow, they hum quietly, and when you touch the glass, bright filaments follow your hand. We have two because both of us wanted one as children and neither of us ever received one.
As adults, we decided that was reason enough.
A home does not have to take itself so seriously
I care deeply about good design. I notice proportion, material, craftsmanship, and the way objects relate to the room around them. I would rather own fewer things that are well made, genuinely useful, or personally meaningful than fill a house with objects that were chosen only because they fit a look.
But usefulness is broader than function. Something can be useful because it makes life easier. It can also be useful because it creates curiosity, brings back a memory, starts a conversation, or makes someone smile every time it lights up.
The plasma globes are quirky and unexpected in our house, which is part of why I like them. They remind me that adulthood does not require us to become humorless. A thoughtful home can contain serious books, good furniture, practical tools, living plants, and something wonderfully unnecessary that delights the people who live there.
The question I ask before I recommend something
This is also part of how I think about Botanic Living recommendations. I do not want to discuss an object, book, recipe, or product simply because it is new or popular. I want to have a real relationship with it. I should genuinely use it, genuinely love it, or understand clearly what kind of value it brings.
Sometimes that value is repeated daily function. Sometimes it is beauty. Sometimes it is the peace of a room feeling more orderly, the curiosity opened by a book, or the pleasure of making a recipe again because everyone asked for it. Emotional usefulness is still real usefulness.
That standard keeps recommendation from becoming constant consumption. It asks a better question than whether something is attractive or currently being talked about. Does it support the way we actually live? Does it continue to matter after the first excitement passes? Does it add function, beauty, peace, curiosity, or joy?
Make room for harmless wonder
There is a tendency, especially when we are trying to live intentionally, to make every decision carry an enormous moral weight. We can become so focused on efficiency and improvement that we forget a home is also meant to hold pleasure.
I am not suggesting that every childhood wish needs to become an adult purchase. I am saying that delight deserves consideration too. A home is not a storage system or a design exercise. It is where people live, laugh, remember, rest, work, cook, argue, repair, and begin again.
If something harmless makes that life brighter, it may be doing more than we first thought. Sometimes joy is not the opposite of usefulness. Sometimes joy is the use.
With love and intention,
Jennifer
