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Two crumpled receipts:  1 from Costco,1 from Ralph’s, 1 double-sided shopping list, 1 yellow post it note scribbled in blue ink: “Thanks for the loan PT,”  3 pellets of hard dog food & a tablespoonful of sand.

This is what I found at the bottom my laundry basket, after I hoisted a heaping double armload of crumpled whites.

Life needs tidying.

Mine is a mostly tidy house as long as you don’t open a cabinet or drawer.

Until someone comes over, I think my house is tidier than it is.

Then I notice every little out-of-place detail:

An unfolded towel, a cup left on the counter, a paperclip by the sink, a hair scrunchie abandoned on the couch.

Yes, every room in my house could use some straightening.

Life needs tidying, but no matter how clean the rooms are, I have a nagging sense something else needs tidying.

At my core, I know it’s my soul.

I tidy around me instead of in me.

I know this thought is authentic, because I feel it in every stiff muscle fiber of my neck, Every extra ounce of flesh cloaking my body.

I feel it in every tingling pore of my skin.

Saying it aloud clears the dust pile.

I look into my soul at my barest,

most vulnerable

most open to God.

This is my connection.

Tidying is letting go

I choose to surrender.

At my core I know it’s my soul that makes me breathe deeply.

At my core, I know that’s enough.

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