Revelations on cleaning my ring

So I just cleaned my ring.  Now, it was never not a diamond, and it was never not white gold.  But holy goodness, it might as well be a different ring.  The shine and sparkle are completely restored, and it's like he proposed an hour ago.  One of those funny turns in life where you can't always have it absolutely sparkling, then you forget its sparkle at all!  It gets dirty and cloudy and of course it still refracts and reflects, but you forget how much it used to sparkle.  Then you soak it and brush it and scrub it and soak it and rinse it and you have yourself the excitement of newness again.  Don't we all get so comfortable and forget?

Now maybe I've got this all backwards and one's ring should be squeaky clean always.  If it really does become a part of oneself (arguably, what with not taking it off and all), then maybe skipping cleaning it for even a day should be more like skipping a shower and your hair is a little greasy and you regret that decision deeply come 3 pm.  Maybe it's like keeping your house clean - both clutter- and dirt-wise - and it's just better for peace of mind and easy on the eyes.  But is it really so different from getting a manicure or a haircut?  They're always your hair and your nails, and they always look nice, but that refreshing update just gives you such a boost!  So many interpretations! 

I'm always so excited to turn things into a microcosm of life.  An analogy for something.  This little incident really speaks to this other circumstance of the human condition.  But then sometimes I end up comparing jobs to symphonic concerts, or cleaning a ring as a way of understanding one's possessions and newness, and I just come off as silly.  Oops.