Apparently I need a lot of new starts. Fresh beginnings. That burst of energy that comes from desire or regret or fear or just having been stuck for too long in a place in my life that does not serve me or anyone else. I was thinking for a while that where I am does not concern other people, that it was my own process and truly belonged just to me, but I am feeling more and more that, you know, I do not live in isolation, as much as I desire that sometimes, I live in a society, a community and, more importantly, a family, one that is made up of not only the people to whom I am connected by blood and marriage, but those people I have purposefully chosen to be part of the truest part of what family means to me. I always thought of myself as a person who thinks of other people first, but that is probably one of the delusions that helps me get through the day, you know? I am the queen of rationalization.
As part of one of the dozens of conversations we had at coffee yesterday, it was suggested to me that I begin to document some of what happens here. Documenting is always a great idea. A little ink, some paper in a bound or dated book and you are set to go.
So, I am doing that. I am writing down everything that seems essential to the process. One of those is the uncomfortable and weird physical aspects of this environment. It is stimulated by the heat, but I will be filling it out with my daily work on getting rid of the rest of my stuff. As of this moment, practically everything is on the table and open for divesting. The books were difficult, but the art materials and stuff are already making my chest tight and hurting, but I am determined to winnow it all down into a bunch of those medium sized plastic bins and they will not be overflowing, but will have to accommodate a firmly attached lid.
Man, that really is enough to give me a heart attack.
I will also be shredding or burning every bit of paperwork that is not on some essential-to-keep-list. Just to be safe, but everything else goes. Cards, notebooks, journals, old records, everything is fuel for the flames.
I know that this is all about loss for me. When I lose or have taken from me the things and people that matter, I hold even tighter to the crap over which I have some control. I think that all people do this, in one manner or another, but not with the pathology that is my response to taking a personal thrashing or experiencing some new scarcity.
That is it, that is the word that describes this, at least in this moment...scarcity. It is varying degrees of actual loss of something and the never-had aspect of something that holds significance or energy for me. The something that was intended to fill that empty space in us. Our black hole of need. Not want, but a foundational need that we were either supposed to have or that we were intended to not have so that we would do some thing or task or duty or relationship or work in our lives. I cannot figure out what that particular carrot on a stick is for me and maybe not knowing is part of the process.
So, today will have me logging stuff and getting rid of stuff. And, maybe the blazing hot temperatures in this house are part of what I need to learn by doing this releasing in spite of being physically uncomfortable. I keep reminding myself that there are people all over the globe who manage quite well without modern temperature control and have always done so. Privileged, soft, entitled and lazy me can do the same.
And, as for my friend, I am letting all of this go. I spoke yesterday to another friend, one who has dealt with bias and prejudice in an up-close and personal way. I hesitated to do it because I did want to exploit our relationship, but I was desperate to know if I handled this the right way, so I took the low-road and talked to her about it. She was comfortable with what I had said and done and gave me excellent tips on what to do next, if I choose to do anything. I am guessing that she had to guess that my intentions were coming from the right place and I have come to think that I have to give that same consideration to the friend that precipitated this issue. What a mess. Us humans. Lordy.
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