Zeo, you inspired me.
Dawn had just completed a lovely art bottle, the first to really come together, ready for the world. I realized it should be sitting up on our shelf space above the bed. Then I saw what neglect had set up there in the months of dust, and have since been combing over the shelves for what we have I just put up there 'cause I wanted to hang on to it just in case.
Then I realized what an aesthetic lump of chaos and neglect my mind was registering, right here in my favorite work space, and remembered the brain starts to ignore that which doesn't change, and tends to notice any changes in familiar environs. What message then was I subconsciously sending myself? Then I thought of how you came back to the clutter in your house about three times and realized, "what therapy in trying to finish off unresolved emotional issues is quite like removing signs of neglect and disorganization? I will not let Zeo's message go ignored."
So I took the first hour of the day to prepare those shelves for the future. Yes, there's still some more that needs cleaning, but I put out some comics in the communal kitchen, gave things away we had extra.
I have to admit, having someone to give some of the excess things to made it more rewarding than merely trashing things alone, but I look at things like the back of a drawing pad I kept, just to remember the times, and found a post-it on it that said: "Remember to ask Josh to save a room for Mom" from a visit a couple years back. In this activity, I've found so many little things from the history of the process of getting to here, and realized why I wanted free of negative emotional entanglements with people unwilling to do anything but repeat the same cycles of self-abuse: there were so many other better, brighter ideas I had in mind before all that came along.
Memories of our times getting to this point mingled with our talks about what we want to do next!
I remember being excited about this, so why not think of it instead of what I consider a rut of thought? I've had circumstances that once could've filled me with self-doubt and depression and regret, but I've also had enormous generous energies sent my way through the whole time.
Why not honor that belief in dreams and inspiration by making something else that could pass it along? Why trap this song in me? Why keep the old neglect on display, when the new beauty needs a loving place to shine!
Living in the mess I ignored was really living in the past, and I could never add anything new like your wonderful ideas unless I deal with what I have gestated in myself. What better way to get in touch with that clean work environment in my head, than to fix up my living space---the very shelves just far enough out of way for me to ignore them---and let that activity also be the metaphor for the lingering disappointment I feel with those I thought might do better?
Your enthusiasm to call me and get my artistic support was the breaking ball, and I'm calling eight ball in the side pocket.
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