In a sudden turn of events, I was reassigned from my much loved garden assignment to our garage which is the point and summit of all confusion. I had a heavy heart saying goodbye to the plants that I cared for for the past two months. Good thing the rains are still at it these weeks and they could survive. But, according to St. Thomas of Aquinas, "obedience is the surest way to moral perfection", so I have to follow the new assignments that got posted out at the beginning of the year.
This afternoon was the first battle with the garage room. Spider webs were roundabout and dust particles fight their way through my nostrils. The musky smell tell me that this room has been left untouched for a long time. This fight is not for the faint of heart. This fight is a fight to the finish.
All the things that lay there remind me of how much content our lives has. We think that our own experiences arrange themselves nicely in our subconscious. I believe the subconscious is much like the garage room. It just receives and receives and receives until the time when you would access a memory, all other things pour in and heap on top of you.
What I am saying is that we need to have a habit of processing our experiences: keep the junk out and keep the tools in. Each human life is a long story in the process of writing. Not all chapters are feel good but it doesn't mean they don't have value. Healing memories and facing truths are the most useful ways we can straighten up and clarify that wonderful novel that we are still writing everyday.
As for me, I am still writing the story of Keith versus the garage. Fight to the finish!
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