Staying home this past week has done wonders for my inner peace. Truly. I've eliminated a bunch of crap I no longer (ever?) needed and my house feels very peaceful. And that's despite having a houseful of boys. I'm ready to go back to work and dig in for the next couple of months and then, say goodbye to another academic year. They go very fast, faster each year, picking up momentum along the way.
At home, I've moved furniture and cable lines, shifted purposes and meanings of rooms. Things which I have planned to do eventually and someday have happened. Accomplished. I'm single, no longer with my soon-to-be-ex-husband-excuse for not moving forward. It's time. Baby steps, but motion nonetheless.
Tasks sometimes appear as insurmountable because we're unwilling to live with the messiness of dismantling something. Oh my God, have you ever had home improvements done? The ripping the kitchen apart, washing dishes in the bathtub and eating off the grill every night? The dust and clutter and noise necessary to deconstruct and build are formidable. There's that moment when you're untangling the wires for the umpteenth time and feeling overly confident about your ability to remember what plugs in where, when you wonder why you just couldn't have left well enough alone. Why must you crave improvement?
But, if you have a clear vision, maintain a gaze ahead at where you want to be, it happens. And it is satisfying and good and well worth the effort. And the wait. Putting it together, correctly and right, more than soothes the temporary devastation necessary for changes to be made. Not to mention the angst created by living a life always yearning for something better.