Monday, January 30, 2012

Space and what to put in it... or how to leave it be. . .

So tell me this: why, when I clean my closet, get rid of a garbage-bag sized bag of clothing, a whole bin emptied (and put away) AND my old Doc Marten boots in the give-away pile, am I not filled with glee?  I was almost instantly morose.  What is this?  Some teenaged girl is going to pee herself when she sees these perfectly broken down boots at the Salvation Army thrift... and I don't want them anymore, so it is perfect. Was it the size changing I have done? The linen pants in a size four that I can't wear, no matter the season or the desire? hmm.  The clothing I have been given that I have never actually worn? The sweater chest? Do I fear the cold so much that I keep two cardigans for each day of the winter? Is it the looming need to keep going? to get the baggage that I carry down to a single shelf, a single hanging rack? a need to pare down until I have reality on my chest and nothing else?  It it hard, this skinpeeling, this un-layering, the hurt is real right now and the self-motivated nature of it makes me feel confused about why I am doing it, while feeling it is necessary to make the space, but wondering what will fill the space (if anything). 

I found a store in this town that is in a little shed behind a farmhouse... horses, mud, rusty metal and all... and the woman sells angel figures and things of beauty (?) that she has made while inspired and while i don't get all thrilled by figurines and things and so just bought some lavender essential oil and a deck of cards with 'angel advice' on them. ( i love things like this, like to draw a card and think about what it means all day... yesterday the card suggested i cleanse my chakras. go! rock on the newagey, i say!) ... anyhow... the lady's name was carla lee, or carlinely, or somesuch rythmic 'L' based name.. and she was a hardsmokin' lady on a farm and just was thrilled to be doing her thing, thrilled! and it was just so cool and I really like meeting people who are so far out and yet, working on being so GOOOD, and trying to live a wacko life based on the basic goodness of humanity, and the possibility of magical things being real.   If you saw this lady at the grocery store, you would have no idea that she was blessing everyone that she saw and asking her angels about which broccoli she should buy. (ok, maybe you could guess that part... :)

I'd like to start assuming this more often.  Maybe the boys who I went to highschool with, who are mostly cops now, maybe they are trying to be Good too.  Maybe I should give everyone the benefit of the doubt more often.  The other moms at the school pickup? All the grandparents?  I certainly don't want to go the other way, I don't. Can't we decide to believe that people are mostly Good? Maybe we're all trying to fight the good fight, in our small ways? Don't we engage in spiritual warfare, just to get through the day sometimes?  Is our seeking part of the bigger picture? What is going to fill our closets when we are emptying them of all these 'things'? shit, i have no idea. none.


Noel said...

Winnie the Pooh says roughly, that at bottom everyone is alright really. I try to keep that in mind and it isn't an easy task. Influenced too early by Jesus Christ Superstar, I'm old enough to have heard the original and been blown away in my 8th grade music class by a young, passionate student teacher majoring in opera who chose that to teach us about opera with JCSS and Hair instead something like Carmen;the phrase of music "If your slate is clean then you can throw stones, if your slate is not, then leave her alone"sings through my brain when I start judging all those people around me who aren't trying hard enough. I've come to think, we need to judge in our animal selves. That's how we keep safe and protect our children. But we take it farther and farther until it isn't about safety it's about defining ourselves and needing to feel better than. I'm very judgemental,but I keep trying to let it go. Because for me, "Damn braces, Bless relaxes"( William Blake) happens to be true. I don't know if we're all basically good, but I think most of us try most of the time.