First, let’s be honest: calling something “precious” can sometimes act as a velvet rope, a cordon sanitaire that says, “This is off-limits. This is untouchable and apart.” Think of the grandmother’s china locked in a cabinet—too precious to use, too dear to risk. It preserves a memory, but it can also freeze it, holding it out of the flow of everyday living. You can’t dish up takeout pizza on those plates; you just stare at them gathering dust. That’s the peril of the precious: sometimes, it sterilizes, it sanctifies—and inadvertently, it excludes.
