What's Lost Is Sometimes Found

I have lost many things in my life - my father, friendship, one glove, a loving man, my lavender comb, several teeth (don't worry, they were baby teeth) - and some things lost cannot be found again. Certain losses are of one-of-a-kind treasures, like my father, whose humor and affection and funny quirks live on in my mind and sometimes in my dreams, where he comes to visit me.

The friendships that I've lost were perhaps destined to only last a certain amount of time, until we moved on to other stages of our lives. The glove was easily replaced. The comb I'm still looking for, hoping.

In a cluttered house, it can be easy to lose something because of all the visual noise distracting you from what you are looking for. In an earlier post I included a photo of my living room in a state of disarray. One evening this week my son, Mark, told me he had four friends coming over and he wanted to clean up the living room so they could hang out there.

I quickly helped him clear the room of anything that didn't belong in it, and put those items in my bedroom. It was so easy to do that I wondered why I had been procrastinating. (See the new photo.) Since I then had to clean up my bedroom, I packed up things to get rid of and put them in my car, to disperse the next day.

Agonizing over the best way to dispose of something trips me up when I work on decluttering. I hesitate to throw something away in the trash, as there is no "away"; things simply get buried in the ground or piled in a heap.

So I need to make better decisions about what I acquire in life, for several reasons. First of all, I want to acquire things of value to me, not just get something because it's free, or easy to get, or available. Then I want to make sure I'm not holding onto things I don't want or need, things that do not serve me well or are not good for me.

Having removed the clutter that keeps me from seeing things clearly, I can concentrate on keeping those things of value, which means I am less likely to lose something important to me. There will always be loss, but I can do more to prevent the kind of losses that come from something being hidden from my sight.

This theory of clutter, loss, and taking care of things that matter extends to more than material goods. Time spent on busywork can be clutter, which causes the loss of time that could be spent on meaningful pursuits. Worry is mental clutter that keeps one's thoughts from setting tangible goals that could help transcend the worry and instead bring empowerment.

When someone comes into your life who is clearly good for you, it sometimes happens that you let clutter thoughts intrude, which discount the good by picking out the negatives and holding them up to the light at every opportunity. These distracting thoughts are what Richard Carlson wrote about in the entry "Stop Rehearsing Unhappiness" in his book (with Kristine Carlson), "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff in Love".

In all clutter, there is perhaps an insulating factor:   If my home is cluttered, I won't have to deal with people coming over to visit and highlighting my social awkwardness. If my mind is cluttered, I can put off setting goals because it's possible I might fail at them, so the mental clutter keeps me too busy to even start. If my clutter thoughts keep me from truly appreciating someone who loves me, I can shield myself from the vulnerability of really trusting a person who could cause me pain if they decided to stop loving me.

Humans are adept at surviving in the face of many hazards, but surviving is not the same as thriving. To thrive is to fully live and take risks that could bring joyful rewards. They key is sorting out the clutter that prevents us from taking those risks.

And risking, although scary and sometimes dangerous, may lead us to find some things that were lost. My heart says this alone is worth taking the chance.

Sundays

By now I've had my Saturday, my day of miscellaneous wanderings and half-hearted attempts at completing household tasks. I always have high hopes for Saturday - what I'll get done, who I'll see, where I'll go - but more often than not, I end up simply enjoying the fact that I don't have to go anywhere or do anything particular, most of the time.

After five straight days of being away from home 10 hours each, my Saturday is a reconnecting day. I reconnect with my home, familiarize myself with the kitchen, and enjoy the sanctuary of my bedroom. Messy, yes, but stressful, no. I love my home, and I love being here. I miss it and my family during the week when I'm gone. I would love to be here more often, but for now, I can accept the necessity for the transition to "home time" from "work time".

And here I am at Sunday. The morning normally consists of sleeping in a little, reading the newspaper in bed, getting some breakfast and tea, then getting online to read interesting sites for awhile. I tell myself that Sunday will be my productive day, but here I am again, at almost noon, and I've yet to check a task off my list. But I'm working on it. And I HAVE sorted out some clothes to donate to a clothing drive at work for the homeless in Toledo. Who knew I had twelve pairs of jeans? I certainly don't need that many, as I only wear three of them regularly, and I found some sweaters to get rid of, as well. I have also read quite a bit of Inc. magazine, which is a treat for my brain and an idea-booster, as well.

I think I'd like three-day weekends quite a bit. I could get the reconnecting day out of the way, then have a day for getting work done, and a day for having fun and seeing people.

Or maybe I could just not spend so much time away for work! That is my ideal solution. One day my goal will be achieved! But for now, I have come to an understanding of my weekend needs.

May your weekends be full of achievements, rest, relaxation, and fun, also!

He ate and drank the precious Words

"He ate and drank the precious Words, his Spirit grew robust; He knew no more that he was poor, nor that his frame was Dust." Emily Dickinson

Encouragement and love, like food and water, sustain us when we feel we can go no further. They boost us up and give us hope, of futures both imagined and never dreamed of. When lying in despairing ditches of our own digging, encouragement and love are the two hands that reach down to pull us out, up to daylight and fresh air so we can breathe deeply the cool soothing peace. Those hands caress us and calm us, encircling with a strong hug our fearful trembling insecurity, assuring us that all will be well again, that we are capable, wonderful, and cared for.

I am full of gratitude for the many people in my life who have shared their love and encouragement with me. The role of a single parent is much more difficult than anyone can describe, and if it were not for those who lifted me up when I was sliding backwards, I would not have survived these years with my sanity and heart intact. It could have turned out differently, I'm sure, either better or worse, but it turned out just the way it did for a reason - a reason I perhaps do not understand yet, but sometime in the future I may.

I have learned to be alone and most of the time not be lonely, in part because of maturity, in part due to the invisible web of people I know I could call on if I really needed to. I am grateful for every day I can wake up and breathe and feel my heart beating, knowing that I am full of love to give and can share it with as many people as I want. All of the love given to me in various forms over the years has taken residence in my soul and would like nothing better than to be given away again and again, never diminishing the supply I have yet to share.

I am rich beyond my wildness dreams because I often have an incredible happiness come over me for no particular reason, other than it just bubbles to the surface and I have to express it. It happened today, shortly after 3:00 in the afternoon. It is a feeling like being in love, without any uncertainty or dependence on another to ensure its existence. I am in love with the day, with living. I may not have that feeling constantly, but the fact that I have it at all, with no event prompting it, is a joy worth more than any material riches. It comes to me almost every day now, and when it does I smile and my arms want to be thrown out wide and my heart is full of love and I just have to say, "I am so happy!"

My life is not free from conflict or issues or stressful situations, and I sometimes long for someone to be my one love who will share devotion and opinions and my bed and my heart. So I don't have an answer to why I am so blissfully happy, so often, except that I know that if one is capable of loving, one will find a way, and I have. I have found a way to share my heart.

To all who have given me the precious words of encouragement and love, I thank you for your role in my spirit's robust revival. I love you all.

You Are Fantastic

I Love You