A-Musings

Quantum leaps required. And available as necessary ... “No one can tell you why you're here." "We all have a choice in life, Charlie” “It’s okay. You can let go now.” “There is no now, here." “I’ll see you in another life, brother.” (Warning: You may find yourself lost in this if you aren’t familiar with Lost .) Yes, I admit it. Wholeheartedly: I watch Lost . I love Lost . Judge me if you will: I’m a doofus, a geek, a fool! But I don’t care. (Not the equivalent of a 21 st Century trekkie – you won’t find me wearing a Dharma Initiative jumpsuit - but close.) Eagerly, faithfully, from week to week, I followed the sprawling, messy, tangled, far-fetched, illogical, non-linear storylines of each of the exquisitely flawed passengers of Oceanic flight 815 and the “other” assorted friend/foe inhabitants/visitors of that achingly beautiful island as they jumped from time to time, place to place, crisis to crisis, relationship to relationship, choice to choice...

So I was planning to do some serious spring cleaning this month. (It is May.) Rather than my usual bi-annual seasonal clothing switch-over around each equinox, I plotted a thorough purge of the flotsam and jetsam polluting my closets and my life. Yes, trashing the detritus of my past taking up space in my personal space would feel oh so good. Making room for something, anything! would feel oh so satisfying. Welcoming the new, even if it was old (as in antique!) would feel oh so rewarding. But somehow I got waylayed. Each time I allotted time - a few hours, an afternoon - to going in and taking action, I didn't. I'd open the door, peruse the situation, pull out a few hangers - and abandon my mission. I'd toss the hanger on the bench, over a chair. Or I'd drop them just let them drop to the floor. And leave them where they lie, stepping over them for days ... What's this? Procrastination? Existential angst? Another mid-life crisis? Just plain lazin...