I feel like I've been drowning in the last few weeks, succumbing to a tidal wave of emotional left-overs, a tsunami debris-field of old habits and ideas and concerns that have been been unmoored and unleashed, and cluttering up my emotional space.
Somehow I stopped noticing it was all there, either so hidden away or so obvious that it was just my normal. Until it broke free and crowded into my awareness so that I could not continue to ignore it. Until it became so messy and noisy that I had to address all this...stuff, one way or another.
It has seemed a little overwhelming, a little beyond my capacity to manage and sort through so much big stuff, to make choices and decisions about the things I've ignored for so long.
But it turns out it's not such a big deal after all. I've noticed that so little of the clutter requires any real attention. So little of it has any present-day value, and I'm not sentimental about the past. I don't need to hold on to things for the sake of nostalgia, and that includes the emotions of a former self, a different me, another version of who I was.
My present-day reality is simple and clean and clear, with soft, inviting spaces and lightness and a lot of loveliness as well. It is a place of powerful solitude and easy companionship. It is a place of honesty, and clarity, of depth and insight, a place that nourishes body and spirit, mine and others.
So the clutter has to go - it has no home with me. I'm not offering it to anyone else; I imagine it will burn in the fire of G*d's love, incinerated by the pure intention to add no additional burden of any sorrow to the world and its inhabitants.
I don't know why it has taken until now to see all this, but it has not come a moment too soon, or maybe even a moment too late.
Somehow I stopped noticing it was all there, either so hidden away or so obvious that it was just my normal. Until it broke free and crowded into my awareness so that I could not continue to ignore it. Until it became so messy and noisy that I had to address all this...stuff, one way or another.
It has seemed a little overwhelming, a little beyond my capacity to manage and sort through so much big stuff, to make choices and decisions about the things I've ignored for so long.
But it turns out it's not such a big deal after all. I've noticed that so little of the clutter requires any real attention. So little of it has any present-day value, and I'm not sentimental about the past. I don't need to hold on to things for the sake of nostalgia, and that includes the emotions of a former self, a different me, another version of who I was.
My present-day reality is simple and clean and clear, with soft, inviting spaces and lightness and a lot of loveliness as well. It is a place of powerful solitude and easy companionship. It is a place of honesty, and clarity, of depth and insight, a place that nourishes body and spirit, mine and others.
So the clutter has to go - it has no home with me. I'm not offering it to anyone else; I imagine it will burn in the fire of G*d's love, incinerated by the pure intention to add no additional burden of any sorrow to the world and its inhabitants.
I don't know why it has taken until now to see all this, but it has not come a moment too soon, or maybe even a moment too late.
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