Atwater-Donnelly

Newsletter

OCTOBER 2001 - JANUARY 2002
CLUTTER

I've been thinking about Spring cleaning a lot lately. Maybe because Summer is almost over and I haven't moved one item out of my house yet.

I'd like my home to be as a river flowing smoothly, winding gently through the dwelling -- a living path from the keeping room to the parlor, rounding past the office, through the dining room and back into the keeping room, onward and up the stairs into the bedroom where life is streaming freely from windows, through mirrors, under beds, down the stairs, branching off into rooms waiting to accept the wonderful energy that encourages peacefulness.

Instead, I dodge chairs pulled out from the table, the rack for drying clothes, stacks of papers on the floor, musical instruments barricading every passage, items that have been on the stairs since the builder passed away at the end of the 18th century, piles of shirts that I don't even recognize as my own, books, CD's, papers, electronic components that I absolutely can't live without--it's maddening!

And I'm not even a collector; I certainly am not one who hoards things. In fact, I actually enjoy getting rid of stuff and freeing my environment of useless objects. But, even as an ordinary, semi-organized, and fairly tidy person, I find that things accumulate. I'm wary that if I set something down, there it will remain until my children rummage through my belongings someday.

Oh, I pity my spirit; it is not free to enjoy the luxury of space where nothing blocks the flow of eternal bliss. Often, we permit effortless walkways through the house, making a conscious crusade to set aside objects that block clear passage, as we assign articles to recycling bins and trash cans. Occasionally, when time permits and my mood is synchronized with the task, I sift through the drawers, the tops of bureaus, desks and tables, glean closets, shelves, and crawl spaces, making piles: one for my kids, one for Goodwill, one for the barn, one to throw away, and one to keep. If only that happened more often, then I'd be as an angel, floating without obstacles that prevent my spirit from enjoying true lightness of being.

Peace,
Elwood


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