Why do we have a garden we never actually sit in?

I once bought a fine cushion for my courtyard. Told every neighbor about it. They asked, 'Do you sit on it?' I said, 'I am saving it.' One day a donkey sat on it and ruined it. I shrugged: 'Well. Someone used it.' Most outdoor space works the same way. It sits there, saved, waiting for a day important enough to deserve it. That day never comes, because sitting outside does not feel like an achievement. It feels like the reward you get after achievements, and the list of achievements never ends. When a group shares the space — a household, a pod, a team with a courtyard nobody uses — the problem multiplies. Everyone assumes someone else will suggest it. So the donkey gets more use of the cushion than anyone who owns it.