I walked by our oldest son’s room one day to see this sign carefully placed on the floor in his door way and him hard at work building on his floor inside. I giggled that he had set up a construction sign for his room, but I am starting to think we need one just like it on our front door. Or maybe we need one permanently installed at the bottom of our driveway. (Please, if you know my boys, do not tell them this. They will, without a doubt, install the signs for me!) It’s just the truth though; we are always under construction around here. If we aren’t actually remodeling a room inside or building a new flower or garden bed outside, we are always building up little boys into men. And all of it is messy, loud, hard work.
After holing up in my shell for the last year and a half or so, I am doing some hard learning and growing of my own. Lately, I’ve been peeling back the layers, getting rid of things both physical and emotional, in an effort to find out who I really am after all that has happened. I started by journaling almost nightly for a while. I’ve kept a journal off and on for much of my life. Usually my journal is like an old friend, the kind you can pick up with where you left off no matter how long it has been. This time around though, I found the writing both difficult and revealing. Just like peeling back the layers of an onion, there were some tears. Unlike an onion, though, I found that there were some kernels of truth hiding in there. Really, maybe it’s been like cutting into an onion that’s starting to sprout; what I’m finding in me is fresh, new life.
All those layers, though, getting rid of them is sloppy work. Anyone who has ever lived with a fury animal will tell you that shedding is messy. I thought it was possible that it was just messy because we kept critters indoors, but one summer long before we had the boys hubby and I took a vacation in the mountains. We watched big horn sheep roam near the mountain tops. I was a bit shocked to see tufts of long shedded wool in the shrubs and on the ground. Shedding is even messy in the wild. The fiber artist in me wishes I could have wandered up there with those big hairy beasts and harvested some super long wool to spin.
The mama in me who is trying desperately to clean out this house is really thankful I didn’t. There are piles and boxes of things sorted out for yet another epic garage sale lining the hallway upstairs. I haven’t even started cleaning out my studio yet. I’m not certain I’m ready to deal with all those memories of my mom (A lot of the things I do and have down there started with her.) wrapped up in a space I shared with a dog I loved, a dog who was my first baby.
Yes, shedding is messy, but there is beauty in the mess. I’m finding so much space for us to learn and grow in as I clean out our physical space. I can feel emotional space opening up at the same time. I find my self unfolding and spreading out in these spaces in unexpected freshness. I’m not the person I was before; I’m not in that mess of stuff I’m shedding. I’ve gleaned from all that what I could, and I’m moving on with the knowledge to use all this new room is really exciting ways.
This post is part of the Messy Beautiful Warrior Project. To Learn more, click on the image below: