Crashing Ideas

My four day weekend is not turning out as I'd planned. The weekend was going to be spent doing some further organization and sorting out of my house. I really need to do this, and soon, as the chaos around me is causing chaos within. Friday, I spent the day with an old and dear friend, visiting another friend who has been in hospital for weeks with end-stage liver disease. Yesterday, I spent much needed time with The Kid, going to our local Farmers Market, laughing and people-watching. When she left our house to take in social events, I did not pick up a dust cloth or broom. I picked up a book. I read for six hours, with one small break to throw a frozen pizza in the oven (one does have to eat, even when engrossed in a good book). This morning has been a mixture of  getting minor obligations out of the way and of writing, thinking, planning. Wasted days? Certainly not. The idea of what the weekend was going to be crashed into what the weekend turned out to be.The time spent was all about sharing: sharing time, sharing ideas, sharing myself. The time spent was all about accepting: accepting time limitations, accepting ideas, accepting others.

What will my remaining day and a half away from my work-a-day world bring? Time with family later today, sharing food and time and laughs and ideas. I don't know about tomorrow yet. Perhaps the house chores will get done. Perhaps a walk in the park. Perhaps...perhaps...perhaps. Right now, not knowing and not following The Four Day Weekend Plan is okay with me. So far, not following The Plan has been far better than following The Plan.

Three things about crashing ideas:

- Being open to what is and what is being thrown my way is quite often difficult for me. My two sides of needing and following a plan, a routine, a structure and of being spontaneous and going with the flow crash into each other always, daily, sometimes each minute. Of all things in my life, this one has caused me the greatest problems. It's been read by others as not following through, not completing what I've started, committing but never quite finishing. It's not that. It's the crashing of ideas. It's the passion I have (sometimes I believe I have too much passion). It my yin and yang. It has led me to dark places of insecurity and uncertainty where I've convinced myself I'm a bad person, with not living up to others expectations and not living up to what I think should be my own expectations of myself. It has taken me back to the thirteen year old listening to the school guidance counsellor say "You have so much potential". This crashing of ideas has also led me to great freedom and great soul-feeding.

-The thoughts and ideas in my head  come so quick and unbidden that they crash into each other. It becomes a war zone in there some days. Occasionally they stick. Occasionally they are gone as quick as they arrived. I get frustrated with  my crashing thoughts. I want them all to come to fruition. The ones that stick come back again and again. I've found the second or third or hundredth time they come back, they are not crashing into each other so much, but are more like waves crashing on the rocky shore of my conscious and subconscious. "When are you going to get the message?" they say to me. "When are you going to take action?" they cry. I do; I eventually get the message and take action. My life opens up. More ideas come, they crash, and the cycle goes on.

-Writing becomes a way to sort of the crashing ideas. I sort out me. I sort out my life. Ideas about writing even crash - they crash into each other and they crash into the pigeon-holes of my daily "real" life. Having The Kid home and watching her find time to run and to do art inspires me and reminds me that some things I do, some things we all do, we do because we have to. Without doing them, we are less complete. That is me and writing. It's a compulsion. Those times in my life when I haven't written are my most barren spots, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. I write for me. I always have. Sometimes I share it with you. Going public by starting and sharing this blog has been a huge leap of faith for me. I've taken a chance and put myself out there; it might hurt. My biggest area of concern is that I temper what I say due to possible reactions from my work-a-day world. The idea of freedom that comes from writing, being and sharing myself, crashes into the idea that I still have a need (after all my years and all my fears) to live in a certain box painted by others expectations, society, values imposed by small people with small minds, whatever and wherever I've gotten this idea of what I'm supposed to be versus who I truly am. That is my own idea of fear and acceptance crashing into my idea of what truly lives within. I've found most often that the public-ness of my blog is good. There have been no negative repercussions yet (oh dear, there's that fear again).

The crashing ideas interfere with my dreams. The crashing ideas ARE my dreams. The crashing ideas mean I haven't organized my house yet but instead have spent time with some of my people, including me. The insanity of the crashing ideas keeps me sane. I keep learning about me and about others and about life. I plot it all out on my journey. I write it. I share it. The ideas keep coming. The ideas keep crashing. Which reminds me, I have this great idea about  getting some photographs together for The Brothers this afternoon. See ya, I gotta run now.

Rearranging, Reorganizing and Cleaning Out

The Kid is home after two years in South Korea. She has changed and grown. I have changed and grown. That is what is supposed to happen. It's good.  She will be living here with me for awhile; we don't know for how long. We'll know when it is time to end this arrangement. We are at a point where are living together quite comfortably as two adult women. We have spent many weeks rearranging, reorganizing, and cleaning out STUFF. We both have things to store and things to throw out and things to give away. Our home is still somewhat of a disaster zone, enough that neither of us are truly comfortable to have other people see it. We are slowly getting there though, taking time to do it right.

The rearranging, reorganizing, and cleaning out is worming its' way into other parts of my life. I feel a shift within, I see changes at my work and sense they will affect me, I'm again putting more emphasis on feeding my soul, I am standing by some of my people that are suffering and struggling, I'm yearning for something I can't quite name. I'm working with The Kid to rearrange, reorganize, and clean out our physical space. I'm working and reflecting to rearrange, reorganize, and clean out my emotional space. Some other force is working with me to rearrange, reorganize, and clean out my spiritual space. It's very interesting to me that this time of change on so many levels is happening in conjunction.

Three things about cleaning out the stuff:

- It's scary. Items, ideas, beliefs, dreams that I've been hanging onto for so long are being taken out of their closets. I'm turning them over, dusting them off, deciding what is still important, and putting them where they belong. The fear is the underlying worry "What if I keep this and don't need it?" or worse "What is I get rid of this and find out I DO need it?". Each decision requires thought and analysis. Despite the trepidation, I'm taking time to do it right, and put each item, idea, belief in the right pile. For now. I can get rid of more later. I will need to get rid of more later. I've been crabby and disgruntled and those close to me can see the frustration and fear as I slowly move through all parts of this. BUT I can replace what I remove, if I need to.

- It's exciting. I'm finding things, ideas, beliefs, and dreams I forgot I had. Some are easily put into the right pile. Others are taking longer; I'm not quite ready to let go yet. As I sort through the tangibles and intangibles in my life I am eager to see the end result. I enjoy moments of anticipation as I wade through the next closet or open my mind to a new idea or get a jolt that reminds me to feed my soul and be true to my beliefs. Progress is being made, slowly for sure, but I'm sticking with it.

- It's freeing. Moving items, ideas, beliefs, and dreams from one area to another, deciding what stays and what goes, making a little more room here, trying something out in a different spot or different way can be exhausting. After the exhaustion comes exhilaration. The desire to rest for a bit and then keep moving on, knowing I am creating and recreating my life brings me back to my self and to my greater source.

The Kid is home. Life and space are being rearranged, reorganized, and cleaned out. It is a time of adjustment, of patience, of laughter, of sharing, of love.  I don't know yet how my house will look when we think we are done. I don't know yet how my work will look when these changes are in place. I don't know yet where my soul-feeding will take me.  I don't know yet the results of the suffering I see in my people. I don't know yet what will fill this yearning. I know I'm moving forward and with patience and persistence, I will see it unfold. I am home.