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Sometimes we have our lifes’ work right in front of us. I know for me that is writing, books and rescue. Certainly my liberal education in the humanities prepared me for the writing part but I didn’t realize that until I was checking last week on www.gov.com website which had a chart saying what each major qualified a person to do in life. I just knew I write and write compulsively. The better I get from the pain, the more I write. The worse I get from the pain, the more I write. It is a release, a celebration and a distraction from things like dealing with real life. But I digress.
In my place right now there are three cats, art work I created over the years which surprises me by how much I continue to like it, antiques I inherited and shelf after shelf of old books my mom had back in the 30s. From these things, my life is made. Of course, cluttered up in that mix are all the family papers I inherited as well.
We are hoarders in my family when it comes to saving newspaper articles and obituaries and photographs. Hoarders of this type are treasured by historians. We are the ones who save the physical history of a time until the bulk of the materials can be preserved and explained to others.
What I didn’t realize about being raised as a hoarder is how it slanted my view on life. I never learned to let go of memories – whether bad or good ones. I never learned to let go of emotional trauma. I never learned to let go of relationships. And I never let go of physical pain.
While I realized eventually I never let go of things, I only recently realized that having all of these feelings and memories and pains inside me made it easier for me to be overwhelmed by day-to-day life. Being overwhelmed made me draw back from friends, family and people in general.
What finally brought me back out was my commitment to rescue. It first started as a flicker of an effort to rescue myself and has now grown into where I have identified who I rescue and why and make arrangements ahead of time to assure a smooth rescue and recovery. These are concepts I never even dreamed of when I took that first step to find relief from pain. I just knew I had to do something pretty damn quick or drown.
Until all beings know peace, Know peace.
In my place right now there are three cats, art work I created over the years which surprises me by how much I continue to like it, antiques I inherited and shelf after shelf of old books my mom had back in the 30s. From these things, my life is made. Of course, cluttered up in that mix are all the family papers I inherited as well.
We are hoarders in my family when it comes to saving newspaper articles and obituaries and photographs. Hoarders of this type are treasured by historians. We are the ones who save the physical history of a time until the bulk of the materials can be preserved and explained to others.
What I didn’t realize about being raised as a hoarder is how it slanted my view on life. I never learned to let go of memories – whether bad or good ones. I never learned to let go of emotional trauma. I never learned to let go of relationships. And I never let go of physical pain.
While I realized eventually I never let go of things, I only recently realized that having all of these feelings and memories and pains inside me made it easier for me to be overwhelmed by day-to-day life. Being overwhelmed made me draw back from friends, family and people in general.
What finally brought me back out was my commitment to rescue. It first started as a flicker of an effort to rescue myself and has now grown into where I have identified who I rescue and why and make arrangements ahead of time to assure a smooth rescue and recovery. These are concepts I never even dreamed of when I took that first step to find relief from pain. I just knew I had to do something pretty damn quick or drown.
Until all beings know peace, Know peace.
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