Some ancient urge moves me to spring cleaning. Perhaps it is the same urge that my ancestors felt when they gathered up their belongings to climb toward the mountains as the air warmed for their grazing herds. Primordial instincts stimulated by spring lead me to sweep fresh air into the stale corners of my house. I shake out oriental carpets, and toss away too familiar garments I have spent the winter in. I pour over my objects, scanning each one for the feelings they arouse in me. I discard the sentimental attachment I feel toward a gift from my sister that never quite fit-out it goes to goodwill. I throw away my frustration with a painting I had been working on that didn’t express my intent. Gone the stack of files I had been keeping through lethargy and some secret anxiety that I would need to use them for some proof or other, and with it my subtle dread. I want it all gone.
Spring cleaning is inward, too. As buds begin to swell on my Japanese maples, I search my body for physical tensions and pockets of attitude. What of me, or within me, should be discarded? What within me should be held close and retained? The feelings in my body and the feelings I have about my possessions are linked. Can I cast aside an outmoded facial expression as easily as I cast aside a tired chair with the wrong upholstery? I want to make my environment consistent with my awareness.
In order to toss an object, the attitude that supported it must be tossed. The discarding of the old thing follows an inner shift. Discarding the old thing is necessary to support the inner shift.
Look around your dwelling and notice the traces of the person who lives there as if you were a neutral observer. Notice the way you left your clothes draped, the way you stocked your fridge, the way you over furnished your living room. Act now, because if you wait, you may fall asleep again and no longer notice the misalignment of your space and spirit. Discard the objects that bring you back into outmoded ways of being. Shape your space to support your aspirations. Doing so will help you to shift your entire feeling about life.
I used to be sarcastic. It never felt good to me. Sarcasm includes mixed layers of hostility and passive aggressive humor. Since being sarcastic made me feel bad, I learned to speak directly, without harshness. I discarded sarcasm.
There are other attitudes I have discarded as well. One was the sheepishness with which I might ask for something, as if asking were a matter of shame. Now I just ask. The little dance I once did, the too eager assertion that I would repay the effort of the other, is no longer necessary. It has been replaced it with the crispness of true relation.
Is there a spring cleaning of the spirit? The seasons move steadily, relentlessly in a pattern. There is birth, growth, and death. Can we will our own birth? Can we can shape our environment and ourselves to support our effort?
Spring cleaning is inward, too. As buds begin to swell on my Japanese maples, I search my body for physical tensions and pockets of attitude. What of me, or within me, should be discarded? What within me should be held close and retained? The feelings in my body and the feelings I have about my possessions are linked. Can I cast aside an outmoded facial expression as easily as I cast aside a tired chair with the wrong upholstery? I want to make my environment consistent with my awareness.
In order to toss an object, the attitude that supported it must be tossed. The discarding of the old thing follows an inner shift. Discarding the old thing is necessary to support the inner shift.
Look around your dwelling and notice the traces of the person who lives there as if you were a neutral observer. Notice the way you left your clothes draped, the way you stocked your fridge, the way you over furnished your living room. Act now, because if you wait, you may fall asleep again and no longer notice the misalignment of your space and spirit. Discard the objects that bring you back into outmoded ways of being. Shape your space to support your aspirations. Doing so will help you to shift your entire feeling about life.
I used to be sarcastic. It never felt good to me. Sarcasm includes mixed layers of hostility and passive aggressive humor. Since being sarcastic made me feel bad, I learned to speak directly, without harshness. I discarded sarcasm.
There are other attitudes I have discarded as well. One was the sheepishness with which I might ask for something, as if asking were a matter of shame. Now I just ask. The little dance I once did, the too eager assertion that I would repay the effort of the other, is no longer necessary. It has been replaced it with the crispness of true relation.
Is there a spring cleaning of the spirit? The seasons move steadily, relentlessly in a pattern. There is birth, growth, and death. Can we will our own birth? Can we can shape our environment and ourselves to support our effort?