I had a strong urge to get rid of everything in my room last night, with the exception of instruments, books, plants, and a few particularly significant pieces of art. I even wanted to get rid of things that serve a direct purpose (lamps, computer, printer, speaker, air purifier). If an object didn't feel precisely like love, I wanted it gone. Anything else felt like an increasingly irritating pebble in my shoe. I scanned the room with my heart and realized that even some of the things I thought felt like love, don’t.
I’ve always enjoyed sleeping “like a princess,” with a comfortable bed and fluffly blankets and pillows. As a child, I’d sneak away to my room when the slumber party fell asleep. I’ve viewed this desire for sleep-related luxury as a funny outlier of my personality, and though I’ve long wished I could be content and well rested sleeping blanketless on the ground, I accepted it.
I must remember again and again that everything I’ve ever sought to change begins changing the moment I notice it. Suddenly, all of these pillows and the fluffy blanket and even the rug that at first gave me the sense that things were getting so much cozier in here - so much homier, are making me feel sick in a skin crawling sort of way. A gross, gross, YUCK! feeling. I hate this stuff! And the clothes! There’s too much of it! I am itching and seething. I don’t know exactly what seething means, but if it’s anything like it sounds, it’s what’s happening to me.
I want to rip down the tapestry generously bought for me by a friend to help me feel more at home. It worked so well for months - I'd look at it, and at the tiny little beaded purple chandelier meant to hold a tiny little candle, and I'd feel some sort of ease in my heart. When my meditation app would ask what I was grateful for, my room was high on the list, consistently, for months. But suddenly, these things are DETESTABLE to me. Depthless, detestable kitsch. Ich!
I’m afraid of tearing down everything and feeling the emptiness. I’m afraid of the stark, quiet, tan walls. My room is going to feel like leafless winter branches. It’s going to feel like me. But I can’t have things just to have things - to make the room feel more bright, warm, “homey.” It’s the same thing I’m learning, mourning, about people. The things create a false sense of home; they are place holders that occupy the space where my authentic Home may otherwise settle.
I will keep only what feels precisely like love.
Update: The emptiness is still frightening, but the rug is out - the little dangling chandelier, the tapestry, gone. The room feels brighter.
The tapestry was absorbing light.
http://www.daniellelaporte.com/how-to-make-space-for-quality-to-show-up-in-your-life/
origamiaround
blakekathryn
romaincrisis
yousharknotpass
gummygunk
jimmyeatworldofficial