where

underneath the stars
in between the evergreen
and the world unseen

Prayer

May I never not be frisky
May I never not be risque.

May my ashes, when you have them, friend,
and give them to the ocean,

leap in the froth of the waves,
still loving movement,

still ready, beyond all else,
to dance for the world.

- Mary Oliver

My first 50 felt so good that I took it a little further. I'm up to 180, the number of days in a school year. The number of days (x10 years) that got swallowed by stress, not counting the August meltdowns + the Sunday anxiety that sometimes has the nerve to creep into Saturday.

Since I can't get that time back, I'm assigning this arbitrary number to give some structure to this otherwise free form purge project. It's part of my ongoing effort to reclaim the past for the sake of the present. It symbolizes those last drops I poured out and am trying to soak back into this burned out land and restore into fertile soil.

Like a mathematical truth, these two negatives somehow make a positive. That time and energy lost (and my related regret, anger, diminished health and appearance) + the subtraction of stuff somehow produce a positive result = making up for lost time and giving myself a cleaner slate. It goes something like this:

Even after all the years gone by, and the messes accumulated, I can choose to simply throw it all away (and get the gift of greater freedom today).

You could say it's all about "simplify, simplify, simplify" but I think it's more than that. God forbid we "complicate, complicate, complicate" but I simply couldn't go straight from may-hem to may-belle in a day. They are like two neighbors with a blurry property line. It's really all the same garden but they feel like worlds apart.

Like the coast of Maine, a la "you can't get there from here", the two points appear so close yet without a boat, it's impossible to travel that short distance quickly. There's no choice but to slowly snake along the rocky coastline. So there I've been, just trying not to fall in, missing both the boat and the gorgeous view.

I kept getting rerouted along the long road lined with lions and tigers and bears and rabbit holes and snakes and the whole menagerie. For a while, that was all I could see. And it finally brought me here. Maybe the sweet spot lies somewhere in between, amidst the weeds and the flowers alike.

Actually, that kind of compromise feels like a convenient way for a high school student to neatly wrap up an essay, like when I tried the wake-up-from-a-dream-scheme ending to my elementary school story. For me, the truth is, God was always offering a better way, I just couldn't see it. So that's why I'm trying to clear the view:

10 abstract yet huge items
25 things given to my students
45 VHS (in addition to several previous boxes...still a few more to go)
50 first round
50 second round:

1 door - yes, a door - and the associated project I am letting go of
1 bag full of Real Simple magazines I'd been saving for a rainy day
4 piles of clothes
5 wooden shelves that delighted my dad
2 CDs returned 9 years later
4 original burners from my awesome stove
1 key to ex-boyfriend's ex-place
2 vessels (1 vase + 1 flower pot)
5 products
3 flash drives and the associated guilt for not delivering those pictures sooner
10 little jars
1 pile of alumni magazines + photos + postcards
1 ironing board
1 bag containing 8 lbs of products I let myself get sucked into buying (sigh)
5 pairs of eyeglasses donated to the Lion's Club
1 iphone 4
1 meaningful gift that went to just the right person
1 lamp
1 wedding gift finally given

Where would you have me go?

What would you have me do?

What would you have me say and to whom?

May God bless you with a restless discomfort about easy answers, half-truths and superficial relationships, so that you may seek truth boldly and love deep within your heart.

May God bless you with holy anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may tirelessly work for justice, freedom, and peace among all people. 

May God bless you with the gift of tears to shed with those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, or the loss of all that they cherish, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and transform their pain into joy.

May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you really CAN make a difference in this world, so that you are able, with God's grace, to do what others claim cannot be done.

A Four-fold Benedictine Blessing by Sr. Ruth Fox, OSB (1985)

Heavenly Father,

I believe you will use this

until you choose to remove this.

Grant me wisdom to see as you see

and strength to do as you say.

After dedicating 2014 to the word reclaim, my word for 2015 will now be released. Did you catch it?

release

I debated between two words this year: reveal and release. To me, reveal is prettier, more elegant, and more mysterious, whereas release has several detractions:

1. The quantity of others who have already chosen this word, since I'm want to be original (and pretty, elegant, and mysterious, sigh),
2. The voice of my boss repeating this word each year as she quotes Michelangelo in her standard graduation speech,
3. The somewhat sexual association.

Nonetheless, I was persuaded in favor of "release" by this 8 second dialogue @ 1:14:58-1:15:06 between Madeleine and Mr. Levinson [Season 4, episode 8]:

Levinson: "London has remade me in a different image."
Madeleine: "Maybe London has released you, to be seen as you really are."

Replace London with God and I'm in business. I'm eager for the freedom of "release." To break free from bonds, real and imagined. To be made and remade in His image. And yes, to be seen as I really am.

Reveal started to feel like a bit of work. Reveal what? Some underlying truth needing to be uncovered. To search with the expectation of finding something like a secret masterpiece or hidden treasure - compelling pursuits, to be sure. But what treasure map do I have other than praying for God to reveal (something, anything, everything) to me?

Reveal and release are nearly interchangeable words when paraphrasing Balanchine (or Michelangelo, for that matter). Both were in the business of showcasing what was "already there"; they merely laid their gifted hands upon reality to let the heavenly emerge. Mortal that I am, I just don't always see it in my own life and pray that God will open my eyes.

"We don't create, actually. We assemble what God created. See it's already there, anyhow. You just choose. You just take what's in front of you and you manipulate (it). You put it together. This inspiration, it's not anything that is all of a sudden like a stomach ache...."

It may be splitting hairs, but "release" feels more within my realm of control. Maybe even an antidote to my being woefully overworked. I can "work" on letting go. After all, isn't the point of the Enneagram not to "reveal" our false/shadow self, but to "release" us from the predictable traps and provide pathways to freedom and connection?

Finally, the real reason for choosing "release" is this phrase that just came to me. You could say it was "revealed" to me. I like to think of it as a "recent release" for 2015:

Release yourself to me and I will reveal myself to you.