Dogfight
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Creation myth number ninety-two million and four.
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I was up on a ladder today swapping out light fixtures in the new bedroom. Probably my butt-crack was showing.
That is how you really look like a tradesman, if you're interested.
Anyway, now we have three big old paper moons over our heads instead of little dainty frosted glass pendants of orange and blue and green.
They looked like somebody else, man, not like us.
It's way better now.
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So, one thing I am learning is about breathing. Just taking a big breath in and holding it for a minute and then letting it out, letting it all out, slowly and fully, and pausing, and then filling up again.
It'll take five years off you, every time you do it.
Never mind the slow, full, deep, ujjayi breathing.
That will do things to you that are untoward, man.
The dog always freaks out when I do that.
She wants to get in my mouth.
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It's very spiritually creamy, let me tell you.
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Another thing is we got rid of about ten linear feet of books today. Good books, too. But they needed to find a new home. And we packed the bed of the pickup full of clothes and homewares and drove them off to the Salvation Army and gave that shit away.
Open, open, open!
We do this, I don't know, two or three times a year? We live in a 950 square foot bungalow, so we don't have a lot of extra room for shit. And we are lean. We don't bring a lot in to our home, and we mostly follow the "one in, one out" rule. But still, it piles up on us. I don't know how people who don't regularly purge can survive.
We have never once gotten rid of something and regretted it.
You get started, man, look out. It can sweep like a fire through you. Burning and purifying, destroying everything that is weak and brittle and used up, and hardening and tempering the good stuff, leaving behind only smoke and diamonds.
just like life, man.
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The house feels like all diamonds now, diamonds and the acrid smell of the conflagrated past.
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We are shorn, and stripped, and lean, and ready for it.
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Now I need a goddamn tumbler full of frozen vodka and my woman and the leather sofa and some shit to watch on the fee-vee.
Do not fuck with me, man. I will make you rue the day.
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Namaste, bitches.
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posted by tearful dishwasher at 5:39 PM
10 Comments:
"spiritually creamy"?!!!
Shut-up. I am stealing that. I will, as Elizabeth did, credit you when I do.
I need to know...is your stove an older O'Keefe & Merritt?
Allene
don't fuck with scott!
or me either.
you inspire me, man. i'm going to get a few linear feet of books out the door soon too.
Man, I am inspired too. I'm questing after smoke and diamonds today. Shit has seriously piled up here, and I maybe gave up a little. Time to get lean. Thanks for this awesome post and for making me smile this cranky morning. And for reminding me to fucking breathe. :)
I purge all the time. 600 square feet partially filled with one gigantic piano. That's my whole house. I purge and purge and purge and have never been sorry for it ever. I did it when I moved the childs' roll top desk into my bedroom so my giant drawing if Elsie could fit. I bring the books to work and put them in the bathroom and they always disappear. Purging makes is so that when the Mothership comes to take me home I can get ready pretty danged quick.
The image immediately associated itself in my mind with a lost scene from a Coen Bros. film. Miller's Crossing, in fact.
It's a full moon tonight - and everything is off kilter up north - we're all trying to stay steady because total mayhem is pressing down on us - lurking, side-tracking, flailing, tearing toward us like a bowling ball at full speed. What a strange day and you're there showing an example of surrender: tidying up and getting ready for what is to come... making it comfy for all involved. thanks Scott and Yolie - Mary
one in and one out. that's how i do it too - have to. florida bungalows were made teeny in the late 60s, it seems.
it took my mother five years to believe me when i said it, but she likes stuff way more than i do. and now she doesn't try to give me anything bigger than a book.
honestly, i need some empty space around me or i'd go nuts.
Rue the day? Really? tee hee! You crack me up.
Open! open! open!
Great job. You and the woman are inspiring me to have a purge fest.
Peace to youz,
pf
Ms. Moon-
steal away! I'm sure I stole it from someone else. I use it all the time.
Allene-
Yes. She is a 1951 O'Keefe & Merritt. You can see her on this blog, but I don't know how to show the link in this comment section.
Angella-
Purging is good for the soul and great for the house.
Mel-
I can't believe what a big deal breathing is, I mean really breathing.It is huge in shooting, in tactical work, in fighting, and equally big in meditation and yoga and stress reduction. Plus, its way better than not breathing.
Rebecca-
I thought you were already on the mother ship!!
X-ray Iris-
welcome, i don't think I've seen you here before. And you're right, it does remind me of Miller's Crossing.
Those boys, they can make them some films.
Mary-
I'm sending good thoughts your way. I hope everything is okay with you and yours.
We're doing what's necessary, that's all we can do.
Dottie bones-
I know what you mean, man, I need the white space or my skin crawls.
PF-
thank you!
everyone, everyone, thank you so much for filling this space with your love and support and good energy and, more than that, your simple and plain honest presence, good bad and ugly.
I am really grateful to you.
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