Thursday, April 10, 2014

looking at lights and letting them go...


“We’re born with millions of little lights shining in the dark and they show us the way. One lights up every time you feel love in your heart. One dies when it moves away.” – Passenger, “All the Little Lights”

We’ve been doing some remodeling lately, which means sorting, cleaning, painting and reflecting – a lot of reflecting - so many memories encapsulated in such a mess. Living in a house, busy with the day to day, year after year, one doesn’t notice the wear and tear that indicates time is passing. A mark here, a scuff there, a small crack in the wall…Life goes on. We resolve to clean and patch, sort and organize, but we never do...

Then, at some point, the kids move on, life settles and slows, and it’s time to face the disorganized mess that has become obvious between these now oh, so quiet walls. It’s easy to stay distracted in a loud house full of activity, but once that’s done, the long neglected boxes and bins filled with forgotten memories begin whispering from the dark dusty places where they’ve been piled away…

“If you’re going to move ahead you have to deal with us someday… “ those bins and boxes seem to say. And, one look at the true state of these walls, closets, baseboards and cabinets clearly indicates that “someday” is today.  

Starting into all this is hard; listening to music helps. An album I find myself playing over and over again is “All the Little Lights” by Passenger. As I sift, scrub and paint, the song about all the little lights has become a favorite. It’s a sort of anthem for the process I’m going through – reliving the lighting up and going out of so many little lights over the years…

Part of repairing, repainting and remembering is to take some photos down and hang others up. The work under way needs to be to archive rather than hoard - to define how to honor all those little lights still shining and those that have gone out, while leaving space for the lights still to come, the memories still to be made, the photos still to be taken.  

As I proceed, I find each project has a tipping point - the point at which the possibility of completion becomes clear and the need for closure sets in, becoming bigger and more urgent than the search for distraction or the need to avoid. The act of finishing one project provides inspiration to go on to the next…and the next…and the next…And, before long, you realize that it feels good to take control of your environment, as miserable and tedious as the process is.  

At our house, for the first time ever, the process of complete renewal has reached a tipping point. There is no going back. I’m throwing away far more than I’m keeping and that is as it should be. I can’t be headed into the future bogged down by toting around too much of the past.

As I repaint, renew, redo I reflect on all the little lights, tucked away or proudly displayed. It occurs to me that a house is a home - not a museum. There should be some blank space left on the freshly painted walls.

Initially, my hope was to get the house organized before I put the garden in. Optimistic at best, delusional at worst, the scope of the project far exceeds this timeline. Now I’m wrestling with the need for balance – how to keep the home project momentum going without letting it dominate my life? If I’m truly in this for the long haul, I can’t let my need for closure in each room loom larger than putting the garden in and attending to the other things that need attending to.  

The key is to live the process, steer a clear course during the journey and remember that life is lived one room, one garden, one season at a time. There is a balance between obsession with order and complete neglect. Just because I’ve not found that balance before doesn’t mean I can’t find it now. My goal is to find that balance, learn to maintain it and continue to experience the journey as a ride through all those flickering lights along the way…

It will also behoove me to stay diligent about cleaning. Chaos overtakes order much quicker than order is reclaimed from chaos.  Peace of mind can be found in a box of Swifter dusters, a good vacuum, a quality mop and some clean-smelling cleaner. And, don’t forget to add a non-negotiable cleaning schedule to the calendar. Then there’s the music, whether it be listened to on Ipod headphones or blasted out of old school speakers – to keep the momentum going, keep the music playing, in your heart and in your head.    
 
Hans Hofmann said, “The ability to simplify means to eliminate the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak." So true. I would add something about all the little lights, shining in the dark and showing us the way…

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

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