What my house taught me about life
The excercise Martha Beck gave us was to find the place in our home that we hated, and then explore that (that is the nutshell version). To my amazement my passage turned out to hold a key for me in my personal journey. I can’t help wondering who else hates the in between bits, the ones that don’t seem to make sense, where you dint quite fit because who you were no longer works and you haven’t built who you need to be ?
Oi, Verna !”
I barely hear the whisper as I move from room to room. I never really notice the room I am passing through. Well, it’s more a passage than room, a place for what I can’t into my tiny space. Part spare room and part study. It’s just there. Necessary! If I could, I would avoid building passages into my homes. They waste space.
“Verna, slow down! See me!”
Why I ask myself? This is just a place I have to get past – a place to go through.
“Are you sure ?”
Was I ? Of course yes! Moving from place to place is something to endure, a means to an end. The image of Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole pops into my head along with the sense of leaving and regret coupled with a forced journey and the hope of calm and stillness when I finally get there.
“Please Verna ? Claim me ! ”
The image of Alice is quickly replaced with that darn cat from Shrek. You know the one, all dreamy eyes the make you go “aaaahhh”
Unable to hide my frustration and resentment at being stopped from getting to where I am going, I shout out, “What ?”
Silence! But not quite. Suddenly I am listening to something that isn’t there! Anger comes at me in a strident cacophony, released at last. I am carried into its song – is that a whisper of something lingering ? Something so sad and lost and abandoned it is almost too much? The symphony has found its stride now, the notes colliding, grasping at my attention.
“Claim me Verna! “
And there in that symphony of emotion, I hear the echo of a possibility. I see myself always rushing. Not from physical space to physical space but from goal to goal just like I move in a rush from lounge to haven, never really able to be at peace in either and always worried that I won’t be able to find my way back. What if the path is blocked ? Fear is a vibrant, thrumming thread linking the spaces of my life.
“Verna, see me! Love! Me!
I hate transition! I hate the travel from place to place! It is a no-space! It has no value! No meaning! It is a necessity I reject! I don’t know who I am inbetween.
Only my voice doesn’t seem to hold as much conviction as it once did!
“I am part of you Verna! Love! Me!”
“YES, comes my unexpected reply and the symphony crashes around me triumphant. My worlds so long fragmented come together in one glorious moment and everything is one.
“YES!”, the space echoes back. I hear the rushing of my blood as I fall into the passages of life. I feel the joy of flow, the excitement of movement and I am finally free, released! I am free flowing consciousness, shifting from space to space with abandon and joy.
I am in between and I am home at last
The add in that arrived in the car on the way home…it is all inbetween…. every moment from birth to death is a hallway, a passage, I was just looking at it from too close up.