Mouldy Back Rooms & Dusty Attics.
How confronting, how unexpected, how challenging to have my heart-room visited when there are unwashed dishes in the kitchen along with all those other things that say this place is currently being occupied.
Yesterday, my wife and I were discussing whether we are the drop-in-unannounced type of people, or even whether we are entirely open to the drop-in-unannounced visitor. What we are or what we like isn't so important here at the moment, it is the thoughts of why we maintain the preferences for this or that, as we do, about any number of things. It is especially about what we have stashed about the place, those things that we think we can’t see anymore and so we don’t think anyone can, but they putrify the atmosphere of our being and drag us down.
This time I visited myself... a weird idea, to be sure, but not entirely impossible. In fact I didn't so much drop in on myself, rather I was dropped into myself and discovered more than just a cramped laundry with a questionable history and mechanical monsters. Yeah, I know, it's hard to figure but bear with me.
It happened like this. I was reading The Hidden Spot over at Paula's blog, "Grace Reign", where she was talking about that unique thing/place inside [her] that has such a bearing upon one's being. That's when the light went on and I could see my inner-self more clearly. Some have one or more, I suppose, and to different degrees and about differnt things. I have my own set.
It was, as I said, when I got dropped in upon myself. I could see doors to rooms and closets so tightly shut with their creaky hinges and squeaky locks, and cobwebs hanging off the ever so unused pull-cord for the lights, lights that hadn't been switched on for ages. It was dark and unwelcoming, even lonely, definitely depressed.
Inside those dank places it wasn't so much the unwashed dishes or upswept floors that troubled me, for they are on the do-each-day list. Rather, it was the furniture and décor I had chosen and installed in places long forgotten, where they are carelessly arranged and altogether useless.
They were constructed from life's baggage and detritus ,and the suffocating flotsam of an undisciplined existence. They were reinforced with unrealistic desires and unmet expectations. They were held together by the blood coursing from jagged heart-wounds that stain the innermost places; places that could be used ever so more effectively if otherwise attended.
There was stuff scattered all over the floor, too, by way of destructive words remembered and the splinters of bigoted, self-righteous hatred I have felt imposed upon me over the years, from people near, very near, and from people not so near but within a stone-throw. And, to be fair, I shouldn't neglect to mention all of my own despondencies and stupidities left to litter life like offensive bowel movements.
Ohhhh, there’s more… but I figure it will get a whole lot more scary before it gets any better. Even so, with the Light of all light to guide my way I am sure it will be a rewarding experience, although unexpected, as I get to and clean out spirit-oppressing clutter.
I heard it said,
"When you take your rubbish to God you should dump it!"
Sounds good to me. So, if you can’t find me in my usual wallow you know you can find me with the I am.
Yesterday, my wife and I were discussing whether we are the drop-in-unannounced type of people, or even whether we are entirely open to the drop-in-unannounced visitor. What we are or what we like isn't so important here at the moment, it is the thoughts of why we maintain the preferences for this or that, as we do, about any number of things. It is especially about what we have stashed about the place, those things that we think we can’t see anymore and so we don’t think anyone can, but they putrify the atmosphere of our being and drag us down.
This time I visited myself... a weird idea, to be sure, but not entirely impossible. In fact I didn't so much drop in on myself, rather I was dropped into myself and discovered more than just a cramped laundry with a questionable history and mechanical monsters. Yeah, I know, it's hard to figure but bear with me.
It happened like this. I was reading The Hidden Spot over at Paula's blog, "Grace Reign", where she was talking about that unique thing/place inside [her] that has such a bearing upon one's being. That's when the light went on and I could see my inner-self more clearly. Some have one or more, I suppose, and to different degrees and about differnt things. I have my own set.
It was, as I said, when I got dropped in upon myself. I could see doors to rooms and closets so tightly shut with their creaky hinges and squeaky locks, and cobwebs hanging off the ever so unused pull-cord for the lights, lights that hadn't been switched on for ages. It was dark and unwelcoming, even lonely, definitely depressed.
Inside those dank places it wasn't so much the unwashed dishes or upswept floors that troubled me, for they are on the do-each-day list. Rather, it was the furniture and décor I had chosen and installed in places long forgotten, where they are carelessly arranged and altogether useless.
They were constructed from life's baggage and detritus ,and the suffocating flotsam of an undisciplined existence. They were reinforced with unrealistic desires and unmet expectations. They were held together by the blood coursing from jagged heart-wounds that stain the innermost places; places that could be used ever so more effectively if otherwise attended.
There was stuff scattered all over the floor, too, by way of destructive words remembered and the splinters of bigoted, self-righteous hatred I have felt imposed upon me over the years, from people near, very near, and from people not so near but within a stone-throw. And, to be fair, I shouldn't neglect to mention all of my own despondencies and stupidities left to litter life like offensive bowel movements.
Ohhhh, there’s more… but I figure it will get a whole lot more scary before it gets any better. Even so, with the Light of all light to guide my way I am sure it will be a rewarding experience, although unexpected, as I get to and clean out spirit-oppressing clutter.
I heard it said,
"When you take your rubbish to God you should dump it!"
Sounds good to me. So, if you can’t find me in my usual wallow you know you can find me with the I am.
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