Two months have passed

since I moved out. The first night I slept in this new apartment, the moon was full. The third moon is rapidly coming — just a few more days.

I am quite pleased and have no regrets. It’s just a bit of impatience that irritates me. Like a child who never got anything for Christmas, and then one year gets five presents — I am nearly overwhelmed and want to play with everything at once!

A friend just called and we were on the phone for a while, as her one-year-old was taking his midday nap. She reminded that me that it takes time to adjust. She said: “How many years were you unhappy?” I answered: “24.” She laughed: “And you expect yourself to be back to normal after two months?!” I had to laugh as well.

It takes time. There are so many hurts and disappointments. There is so much anger and sadness. All of this has been stored up over the years, so that much of it is subconscious. I barely noticed it any more! But I still have all that emotional stuff in storage. And just like in the material world, even if I ignore it, I still have to pay for it. Thus it is time to go there, open up the door, see what’s inside and get rid of as much junk as possible. Maybe there are things for which I will find a new application. Some of it is perhaps still good. But much of it needs to be disposed of in an appropriate way.

That basic heavy feeling is slowly lifting. It is a time for healing, and for discovering this life for which I so yearned, but nearly forgot how to live.

One step at a time. One day at a time. Meanwhile, I finished reading “The Alchemist”. The journey is the goal.

Cutting through clutter

Here’s a little poem I wrote, dedicated to my mother…

Cutting through clutter

Cutting through clutter is harder than butter
Even when it’s frozen.
This is a trying destiny
The path that I have chosen.

I’m not on the road again, I’m on the phone again
To avoid this impending sense of doom
I can’t go out, I have to stay
I have to face this cluttered room.

I’m at loose ends, I call my friends
For a dose of inspiration.
They build me up and help assuage
The creeping desperation.

Clearing up a few square feet
A solid floor I soon will greet.
Clearing up a space for fun
Take an hour, get something done.

Chalk around an opening – space to be me
Dress up in collected clothes the way I want to be.
It’s like a fairytale or game
Working through the mess
Confusion is no mere illusion,
but a massive source of stress.

Using the things I bought for someday,
Because I’m not allowed to shop.
Until I have cleaned my room all up
Further collecting has to stop.

Take a picture of each cleared space
Tack it up upon your wall
Put all the pictures together.
Glimpse your true room and stand tall!

I want a boyfriend,
But I have to clean my room.
I want to go to the movies,
But I have to clean my room.
I want to paint a picture,
But I have to clean my room.
I’ll never have any fun again
If I don’t do it soon.
I can’t go out and play until I’ve cleaned my room today.