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.
