I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed lately.
Two and a half months ago, I got this crazy idea that it was time to get all of the junk out of my house. I shouted "Simplify!" and charged into action.
My house is still a wreck.
We certainly haven't been lazy. We got a lot of junk out. Things were going great.
I've opened up about a cubic crapton of room that I didn't know we have. My apartment ,which I considered to be about as big as a large pocket handkerchief, is actually about as big as a large pocket handkerchief with a lot of elaborate lace trimming, so that's good to know.
But then my grandpa died and my gramma decided to break up housekeeping and live in Kansas City with my uncle. She took very little with her, so she gave most of her stuff away or sold it.
Now, at the best of times it's impossible to get out of my gramma's house without a bagful of either clothes, canned goods, or giant mayonnaise jars filled with macaroni salad being pressed into our hands with grandmotherly ferocity.
Now that she was actually moving and not wanting to take anything with her, it was boxes and furniture taking the place of frozen baggies of ravioli .
So I gamely went over and accepted things she wanted me to have-- all of her fabric and art supplies. A new easel. Grampa's stuffed reindeer wreath that sang "Gramma Got Run Over By A Reindeer" every time you walked by it.
I know I've been trying to take things out, but come on!
"Sorry gramma. I don't want awesome vintage dishes, I'm simplifying."
"That's ok. I don't have room for these schoolbooks that belonged to my great grandfather."
"I don't really need your mother's rolling pin although you taught me to roll out pasta dough using that pin while you were telling me stories of your mother. Whatever."
Are you nuts? Of course I want this stuff! I'm wildly sentimental. Plus I need it. We were getting stabbed to death by the springs popping up out of our bed.
Anyway, yesterday was the last trip. We went to pick up the bed.
So, I woke up this morning with a house full of mattresses and boxsprings and boxes and books and thought to myself....oy.
Two and a half months I spend organizing the place.
I feel like I have no time lately.
Time to walk.
I put on my hoodie and lugged the first of the old mattresses downstairs to haul out to the trash before my walk.
I got outside and almost fell over the mattress. It was warm.
Can I just tell you what an awesome day it is outside? It's hella awesome.
After hauling the stupid mattress to the stupid curb, I pushed up my sleeves and took a deep breath of the warm, springy air and started moving.
I wasted a little time thinking about all the things I need to get done, but then a mercifully comic image snapped me into a new and better train of thought.
I was passing a house with a giant picture window. In the center of the window, snug and peaceful was a pug dog taking a catlike snooze on the windowsill. The sight of it tickled me.
I stood there for a moment, appreciating the image and acknowledging the meaningfulness of this scene that I nearly passed right by.
Like the pug, I needed to find a peaceful sunny spot to rest in. Going 90 miles an hour to try and get everything done was not going to serve me. It wasn't all going to get done today. So I decided to just enjoy my walk for the present moment.
I enjoyed my half hour or so that I spent in the air and sunshine. I noted the bare trees beginning to form their hard buds and imagined those buds swelling until they burst with life and color and glorious scent. I observed strong green points beginning to shoot from the dirt, and had my breath taken away by the first crocuses glowing so purely purple and gold in a neighbor's yard that I almost stopped to knock on their door to thank them for planting them. I became excited about the transition and change the earth was going through. There may be some chilly days left, but the spring is coming slowly and in its own time.
I need to remember that, myself.
Now at home, I have thrown open the windows to let all the good, healthy air in and I've gotten the mattresses and boxsprings to the curb, and things don't seem quite as bad now that I've opened up all that room and can actually sit on my couch.
Maybe I should take another lesson from the pug and take a nap.