Moving into my house

I have the feeling that many have experienced the same thing: Those life changes that inspire us to rethink, look at our immediate world through a different set of lenses. Not so much navel gazing but it’s like you wake up one morning and decide your home no longer reflects the person you feel you are, or your wardrobe or hair style similarly. Like maybe wondering how some things have become the way they are while you were really not paying much attention. Walking in the dream time is what I often catch myself doing: Not cognizant of the here and now and sorta living within a thought-world instead of being awake to the present moment. I don’t think it’s a behavior anybody can claim a monopoly on. And for sure, running with our imagination is a gift of human nature, something we all like to do. It’s play time when we create something new.

But now it’s time for a change-up. I get that my home clearly mirrors my state of mind: Actually alarmingly and honestly, for my own dignity, a good reason not to be found in this state. The same reasons maybe why we were told we needed to always wear clean underwear in case you had to go to the hospital.

Sooo…I admit to having a lot of stuff to bring to order. I’m not fooling myself thinking it’s a task to be dealt with and then it’s gone. I’ve tried that many times and like it or not, in my house, stuff has the tenacity of dandelions when it comes to re-growth. The shifts within our personal habits need to be as fluid as the way life evolves.

I’m not beating myself up or counting reasons on a list that could be longer than the number of cracks in County Road 49 as to how I figure I arrived at where I am: No point because that is already part of the past.

It’s only the present I have shot at; tackling what is at hand. And also admitting that my skill set is not great when it comes time to being objective about what goes and what can stay; I amaze myself at the different angles I can convolute around what should stay. The fact is most of the angles are lies, fabrications of the mind. But, lucky for me, I have a caring friend who has the astute skills to help one let go. It doesn’t have to be brutal. On a first go around maybe scale things on a 1-10 in terms of relevance to one’s personal life at the present moment. Repeat on a second round. Go back to step one and repeat again. In my case, it’ll take patience. But I admit the less you begin to see around you, the freer you begin to feel and the less you want around you and so it goes.

Attempting to spot what is often deep-seated conditioning about our behaviour becomes a big part of the purge. I mean what we do and why we do? One small fer instance; it’s taken me a lifetime so far to figure out there is only one place in one’s house to store the accumulation of elastic bands—and that is on a doorknob. Sorta like chewing gum under the table in a way, I figure. So if I put a doorknob in my desk drawer the pattern may change sooner or later.

Part of my inspiration for change may be the recent full moon cycle. The moon of March for Aboriginal Peoples was the Full Worm Moon. The time of year when earthworm casts re-appear, inviting the return of robins. I’ll stick with my house-clean project and shed my own castings to be ready to greet them. That is, if the snow ever lets up.