I get a break in my work day. It’s not a lunch break, for I stay with the students and eat my sun butter and jelly sandwich right alongside them. My break comes later. Thirty minutes. Enough time for a moment to myself, but not so much time that I become engaged in other matters. I sit with my back against the building and begin to observe my surroundings. Cars parked in the lot. Garbage dumpsters in view. A pebble in the crack of a sidewalk. I am pleased to observe life, typically overlooked in the hustle of a day. I have this moment. I see life growing out of weathered cement. Colorful pebbles and peeling paint become my companions. Nearby, the railroad tracks call to me. A bug becomes my friend. I am thankful for these moments and feel at peace.
Summer has been a time of sorting for me. In the process of helping my dad clear out accumulated items of old from my childhood home, I have been inspired to do the same for the space in which my clutter resides. It’s been five years since moving, yet still, stacks of boxes await unpacking. Daily, I am aware of clutter, material goods taking up three dimensional space; but, intrinsically, I know it is a reflection of my mental clutter. How and when am I to sort through these states of clutter, not only to clear my physical space, but also my mental space, my soul space? How do I make space for me to simply BE? In efforts to not be wasteful, sorting through material goods can be daunting given all the choices; keepsake, garage sale, e-bay, donate, recycle, trash, hazard waste. How attached am I to things? What […]