Archives for the month of: February, 2012

This morning I spilled a bag of rice.  I had bagged it myself at the local health food store and to my surprise, the twisty tie was not secured.

This is how it went.  Rice spilling out  and landing on the pantry floor and on the shelf that had been its home and me saying “No…no…no, you’re kidding right?”  But no, there is was, on the tile, in the grout of the tile, in the saved plastic bags to recycle at the grocery store, in the paper bags stored for future use and just about everywhere.

As I got my broom and started to sweep it up, I started to think about this incident as imitating life.  There are times when everything,  e v e r y t h i n g, spills over. Down the chute, into the cracks and crevices of our lives.  Some of it is reachable and we can design systems to catch it and sometimes those avalanches of experiences slide into comfortable places.  We forget about them or store them for another time or they simply hide in the recesses of our minds.

Some of the rice was stubborn, embedding itself into the grout and establishing a prolonged visit with a corner; a corner that was particularly challenging to reach with a broom. There were moments when I surrendered and picked up the stubborn little critters with my fingers and then there were moments when I sought to manipulate the broom into being a pliable rag, swooping up the pieces.  That didn’t work.

I think of times when I have tried to manipulate my spillovers into reasonable containers to be dealt with.  That works for a while, but ultimately I have to clean it up.  I dispose of the overflow that I thought would add to my life and choose to save and cherish the parts that actually do add to my life.

There is still some rice left in the bag.  It is still useful.  I am grateful.  And those pieces that are hiding in the crevices will surface or move or reach a new place where I can see them. Those are the ones that chose to stick around for a while.  That rice is like the issue we finally get to that has been around awhile. It appears once again to remind us that everything surfaces in its time and all that matters is that we discover it, decide what we want to do about it and take action.

Rice. Life. Sweep. Deal. Dispose. Contain. Refresh. Move. On.



The other side of Close is Apart, the place where we go to dissect things, to be alone, to think, to ponder, to protect.

It is a place where we are solitary, where we are trying to source how to be near. Nearer, perhaps, to ourselves, in our own right, in our own clothes.

Apart can serve us as it reveals how we want to be close, touch, meld with others.

Apart can prepare us to be connected in an authentic way.

It can be the preface to intimacy and new beginnings.

Trust your Apart.  It is the path to Close.