Ah, there’s something so wonderful about something new.

Don’t we all relish that new car smell?  There are few scents so intoxicating as the aroma of leather and freshly applied, ammonia enriched window cleaner.

When we first buckle up In the driver’s seat of a vehicle, long-saved for or financed, after final inspections and after reviewing the perfunctory long-term maintenance plan, when we inch out of the lot, the truth of our commitment often comes as a jolt in the air.

When we take the new car smell into our lungs, we know THIS IS FOR REAL.

Most new purchases don’t represent such a proportion of our finances or affect the image of ourselves we choose to present to the world.

Last week, I bought a new mattress.  I realized this was a different category of NEW.

It’s easy to get excited about a new purchase of something I’ve never had before. I was gleeful when I got my new gas grill last year.  (The thought of grilled meats to go with my gin & tonics enhanced my prospects for summertime pleasure.)

But getting something new as a REPLACEMENT for an object I already had doesn’t seem to carry the same level of excitement.  A replacement usually relates to needs instead of desires and, dare I say, is not as sexy.

Deciding I was ready for a new mattress was a big deal though.  Replacing worn-out shoes or sweaters accidentally shrunk by not following the washing instructions is different.  It feels like you have no choice.

Mattresses might go soft or lumpy, but you can often convince yourself to make do, to defer the expense.

But I decided to get a new mattress set.  I’m not sure exactly how old my set was because I inherited it.  It was my mother’s.

I recognize that feeling I deserved a new set played into the decision.  I felt that my physical comfort was worth the expene.

More importantly, I felt it was time for some new sleeping karma.

I wanted to release another layer of unconscious entanglements I still held with my mother.  We had a complicated relationship.  I would have preferred growing up feeling more protected and nurtured, but my story didn’t play out that way.

I’m more than old enough not to be bound by past relationships, or even agreements my soul might have made before I was born. (Ah, these types of lessons are rarely a laugh riot.)

So I went to a furniture super store and awkwardly practiced stretching out on an assortment of mattresses and box springs that were within a general price range.  (It was hard to believe the range in prices and claims.  Every manufacturer seemed to have a gimmick and a promise — to provide the very best is sleep technology.)

I took delivery last Friday and was sure to tip the delivery men for hauling the plastic wrapped pieces up to my second floor unit.

While the men took my old mattress and box spring out to their truck (for proper disposal), I swept the dust bunnies that were under my bed into a dustpan and slid them into to the stainless bin in my kitchen.

I wanted to start my relationship with my new mattress in the spirit of openness and generosity.

A few nights later, I haven’t decided if the set is destined to stay or be replaced (not sure if even the thinnest layer of memory foam is for me), but I realized why I have been so excited about the new addition to my household.

It’s about all about RELATIONSHIP.

When I think about any new acquisition, like a mattress, I realize that what I am really getting excited about is having a new relationship.   It’s not the object itself. Think about how you feel at the prospects of a NEW RELATIONSHIP.

It’s a chance to start fresh, with honesty and commitment. In a new relationship, I expect that there will be a period of infatuation, during which I will try to identify ways that new thing is better than what I had before. Yet, there’s a deeper feeling, one of hope – hope that we grow a honest, rewarding bond over time.

Welcoming a new relationship, in the form of anything new, is no small thing.