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Messes Are the Point

"And the messes are the point.  Joy and sorrow, good and evil, greatness and triviality, hope and anxiety, the ideal and the actual: The ability to live with these seeming contradictions and the ambivalence and tension they create is what gives rise to wisdom.  Our most chaotic periods can be catalysts for understanding."  "...Most of us think life is supposed to work out the way we hope it will or even expect it to.  We secretly want the kitchen to finally be clean.  And yet if the kitchen was always clean, there would be no meals." YEARNINGS

My big secret: I clean my house like a fiend before I leave town.   Why?  Because I love the idea that it is going to stay pristine for more than five minutes. I know with my brain that that's only true because no one will be home.  But, in this part of my life Reason doesn't rule.

Anyway, it's a secret, but it's not a sign of Crazy.  I've heard that crazy is when you do the same thing over and over, each time expecting a different result.  Well, my house tidying doesn't apply because I expect exactly the result I get.  And the next trip I take, I'll get that same result again.  It works.

And then, I get to walk in the door from my trip and think, "Wow!  My work, for once, stayed done!"

Slowly but surely, I'm letting go of the self-imposed expectation that it should look clean all the time.  Yes, I am....  I am.

Or... maybe I have just finally trained my family to clean up their stuff at the end of the day.  I've trained myself not to mind so much the sound of my own voice reminding them to put their shoes away.  I'm reading a book about women and shame and dig deep, as I write my admission, to discover if I feel any shame at all for my expectation of neatness.  Hmm...

Well...

Nope.  First of all, the expectation has nothing to do with how I think other people would think of me if they saw the mess.  I'm the one who likes not having to step over G.I. Joe action toys in every room.

Second of all, keeping a visual order in my life allows me the mental space to live with the "seeming contradictions and the ambivalence and tension" created by the chaos of life.  If I've got the space in my mind to juggle the joy and the grief for going back to work, I can claim the wisdom I discover.  If I've got the space in my mind to embrace both the endearing and frustrating parts of my children, I can find the holiness in creating myself as their mother.

I know my expectation of tidiness, though, has gotten out of hand when I'm wandering around looking for another mess to clean up when I could be in my studio painting or on the sofa hearing about my kids' day.  And even then, when I'm out of balance, I'm experiencing the Mess that it is point of living.

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