January 3, In Which We Are Emptied and Refilled

I had an interesting conversation last night with a friend. He is a new-ish friend, and quite unlike any friend I would have presumably picked for myself, but I am coming to think that he has landed in my lap for a reason. I chuckle as I amend that to “we seem to have landed in each other’s laps for assorted reasons.” The universe does strange things sometimes, does it not? Talking to him is much like talking to myself… plus all these books I have been meaning to read… and the thoughts I have been meaning to think… and calm, much calmer than I currently am.

Anyway, several days ago, we had an intense conversation that ended with the idea of feeling emptied and refilled. Last night, we discussed something only very tangentially involved, and by very tangentially, I mean not at all, except that it eventually led back to this idea of “emptied and refilled.”

I have been attempting purposefully to hang on to that feeling, even though I was not the first one to express it. It is a place I have found myself fleetingly several times. It is…wide open loving, accepting presence in the moment. Right here, right now, content. Unguarded, vulnerable, with the universe catching your back and the whole world in front of you. And, yes, I know that none of these are solid images, that you can’t grasp on to them and hold them and twist them around in the light. I promise I am doing the best I can, and I realize it is woefully inadequate. What if I said my New Year’s goal was birthed from that feeling? Would that make it more understandable?

Anyway, I said I have been fleetingly here before. The other side of that is that I have managed now to hold that feeling for 10 days. Which is not to say that I haven’t slipped out of it, but that I have been regularly and consistently and without great struggle coming back to this place for that ten days.

Why is that important enough to blog about? Because it is in this place that I am at my absolute best. As a person, a writer, a lover, a friend, a parent. The best stuff on this blog: written right here. The most loving and undemanding treatment of others: done right here. The most me I have ever been: right here. And so this is where I want to stay. Perhaps that is the plan of the universe in this instance. My friend can serve as a reminder to me to seek this best place, a place at once passionate and passionless.

Now, do I have a picture to go with that? You betcha. I emptied cubbies 2 and 3 today, and refilled them. My plan calls for just going through one cubby per day in this way, until I have dealt with all the piles in this room. It will take awhile. I will empty and refill many times. Except Cubby 3. It holds my stationary tin, and will continue to do so. Cubby 4 will be looked at tomorrow, but I doubt much will change. It holds the books I got from Daddy and others when I was very young. They are fragile and will never enter general household circulation. Here’s the pile of crap I threw out.

trash on the third

I also dealt with the stuff from cubby one, books on the bookshelf, and yarn wound and ready to work. This is Lorna’s Laces Shepherd Sock in Seaside and Lakeview. The blue and green are the same in the two colorways. I may end up mixing this yarn in a scarfulle or very tall socks. We shall see.

seaside and lakeviewA

Those of you who don’t think an old-fashioned wooden swift is an objet d’art have clearly never used one to wind the glory that is LL Lakeview. It brought a tear of joy to my eye.