Voicelessness and Emotional Survival > Voicelessness and Emotional Survival Message Board
Farm Journal - 2025
lighter:
Oh, gardening, in the rain......is easy digging!!!
I'm trying to muster up the energy, and will, to release clothes, bags of "useful" things and things I can replace, if needed.
Just to clear up space.....
and it's really hard🫨
I know I'll feel better. I know it'll be ok....but.... it's tough to get started....make the plan, the go, IME.
You sound like you're making progress, Amber. It makes me want to jump in and make decisions on book cases, armoire and beds.....again.
And maybe have a big wall mural/landscape painted, by the girls.
Love the idea of safe Amazon processing spaces, Amber.
Lighter
sKePTiKal:
The Amazon processing idea, obviously started here on the board. But the manifestation of it here, happened with Hol's moving here. I know most of her friends. And as Hol processed the how/why/what could've been done differently of her relationships she leaned heavily on those ladies. I am only one person with my experiences and I don't have some secret wise woman teaching to impart... just the things I've learned.
Several of her closer friends have lost their moms. I've served as a substitute they could borrow; one lost her partner to cancer on top of that while I was still grieving Mike... and we had a long, middle of the night confessional comparing notes and laughing about some of our anger fits in the middle of grieving.
There's no "schedule"; it seems to be emotional critical mass that "makes it so". And it might just be a phase - we'll see. But there is another planned for June; Hol's oldest step-sister will be coming, prompting Hol to invite Amy... and their old friend from HS who will try to persuade another old friend to join up with them, and the other ladies. Amy's presence can make mine problematic, so I don't count on my participation being welcome. We'll wing it. There is enough space here for people to move in various zones and not interact.
Yeah, I thought I'd done the bulk of the work of clearing out; purging FINALLY when we got into redecorating the studio. There are still some piles of things I haven't dealt with. I'm not sure what the attachment is... so I might address that while she's gone. Then, there's B moving in... and sometimes I feel like I'm drowning in "stuff" again. His "stuff" is useful - sometimes. I just keep reminding myself it could be worse - he's getting shed of a lot of stuff down south and not even moving it. I didn't have enough time, even in a year, with help, to accomplish that.
I think over time, our needs and preferences change; our aesthetic changes too. So that's why we find ourselves "recycling" the things surrounding us.
Hopalong:
One of my favorite ideas about purging stuff is just cobbled together from a combo of books I read about simplicity, frugality and minimalism.
If I think of the excess stuff as like the trickle of electricity that goes nonstop to feed unnecessary power eaters (always-on appliances, etc)....it adds waste, distracts me from being present, hurts the planet, threatens landfill, etc etc. I didn't put this clearly at all, but it's thinking of the mental weight of too much physical stuff as a nonstop drain on my vital energy. Unseen and unconscious but always on.
Somebody who described it MUCH better said that even stuff you MIGHT use again one day is subconsciously on your mind. (You know you're responsible for caring for it, at some level, so there's even a charge of guilt for having too much). Impedes clarity and reduces openness to the present and its presences. Trickling away. Made sense to me.
One day when I was repeating my moan about paperwork chaos for the umpteenth time, a friend said, "Do you ever think about just throwing it all away?" I laughed then but these days, I wonder. Victor Frankl asked, what's the worst that could happen? Then really conjure it up, and ask yourself: what are my choices in that moment? Extrapolate: what are my choices now?
The other idea about it, at the consuming end, is always pausing to consider need versus want (or craving). That one's pretty easy for me. Tight income and hate to shop. Ta da.
The motivating part is freedom. I do feel so much more free when I have more openness and simplicity around me, visually. I even think my favorite goblin, ADHD, is greatly affected by visual clutter. Not because I'm tasteful or talented (though at my best, I think I've got an interesting and joyful style) -- but because I feel so happy even just visualizing a place that combines serenity and joy. Open areas, color embraced in every direction.
My favorites on walls: a soft blue called Uplift (Sherwin Wms or Behr, I forget) in bedroom, a deep dill green on wall behind piano, the soft warm gray in LR, outer kitchen, and back "big room", and even the strange Caucasian-flesh-Crayon one I had mixed for the rest of the kitchen. Kind of peach without the blush in it. The outside of the house is a soft gray-green, with a happy-bright blue front door.
Time for me to stop visualizing and start filling those bags. After I get the rest of the annuals in planters, etc. Biggest obstacle to that is my back, natch. Need a new hose and I'm going to get one of those ultra-light stretchy ones. 200 feet for the veggie beds, and it'll come around back of house to reach patio planters too.
hugs
Hops
sKePTiKal:
Clutter wears on me, day to day. When that stretches to weeks - I take action. I used to have a twinge of guilt when it was "otheer people's clutter", but no more. I will ASK first and if it remains I start dealing with it. B's "I was gonna get that" tells me that he doesn't even notice it; I just tell him I got there first. Some people don't have the same low threshold for clutter, that I do. And when my life elsewhere is more stressful - clutter anxiety tolerance drops even lower. It's something I CAN control, ya know?
I was thinking about this in the studio with Knuckles. Half of one bookcase are my collection of art books (the other half is gardening related) - from the 80s till now. Impressionists, printmakers, Wyeth, Odion Redon (I have a soft spot for surrealists). The main reason I have them is to study how the images "speak", create a message, provide meaning. Why in the world do I still have these? They're oversized; I've moved 'em at LEAST 3 times in my life; it's not like "my work" depends on having instant access to them power & internet be damned... because I'm NOT working. That's not who I am anymore; at least during this "present moment" of time. There's a cupboard full of various art supplies & brushes - some of them still usable from the 80's... or earlier. A caddy of paint.
Is it a status thing? It is entertainment when there's discussion of various "art" topics? How long has it been since I discussed "art" with anyone? And how serious was the discussion?
No. No, I think "art" was something that served several purposes for me before T helped me unravel some of the frustrating aspects of being me. It allowed me long stretches of solitude, private time, uninterrupted as I "created"... people respected that space. That gave me long stretches to process things and think long & deeply about various "puzzles". It helped me have a definable "identity" - an ego, is another way to put it. And it was FUN pushing that, playing with it. Nowadays, it's not so much fun for me. I could take it or leave it. I'm being creative in OTHER WAYS. And after studying & thinking & dreaming about "images" and how they can/could contain meaning...
I've come to the conclusion that all "images" are simply code; like mandalas that symbolize certain emotions, experiences, truths (or lies), thoughts that repel magnetically from various "givens" or expectations. Like hieroglyphics or celtic knotwork... it's a form of language that isn't saying anything esoterically important; it's mundane stuff like "remember to wash your hands", pick up your socks, and be kind to other people.
It's a rainy day - all day today. Knuckles has gone home so there isn't the activity of the critters around me anymore. I started some feverfew yesterday for B's headaches, since last year's died thirsty. I have hot peppers to crush up and carpet to wash. Cobweb's to police. I have grocery run and a couple more errands... then, who knows?
Hopalong:
Feels to me as though you also embrace the art of thinking: being present with your own mind, respecting and valuing your own thought, and it's beautiful that you do.
The outer bits, a la mebbe more books than you need to keep, are just a fulcrum to what you want to get to.
I think you live a very realized life, Amber. And nobody, EVER, lives a completely realized life. What's super neat about you is how close to come to it.
hugs and admiration,
Hops
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