I wish, I wish, I wish I wish I could be one of those people who felt completely nourished by cooking a good meal or completing an insane exercise regimen or rearranging a room. I try to be. I stick to some rituals for the sake of my sanity, believing that if I don’t fold the laundry the minute it’s done or go for at least one long walk a day the earth will fall completely off its axis. But these are more pathological and so I guess, functional in that sense.
So we’re in the middle of packing up our place and so a lot of the routine (if that’s what we’d call it) has gone by the wayside. I’m half here and half out there, wherever we will end up, in flesh and spirit and this is making me feel really, really messy. Looking around at our place there are just piles of the guts of our closets and cabinets, packed into boxes on top of boxes and this is how I’m acting lately, things are just spilling out and running around like crazy jack rabbits, refusing to be packed away. And I’m like “I beg you, rabbits!!! Get in box!!! GET IN THE BOX!!!”
It’s nothing special. It’s nothing too fragile. It’s the collective human mess, the one that we want to fix with enough something: food, weight loss, money, purposeful movement, surrounding ourselves with the “right” people. But it these are all cures and what we’re working with isn’t a disease. It’s quite the opposite. It’s all life.
So on both levels, we’re going to keep spilling and packing and moving things to new places. Getting rid of the excess and the outgrown in the process. Cajoling the rabbits into boxes with carrots and promising to give them a little more air and food and love so they don’t get so mad!