Clarity in Anger and An Empty Room

I am starring at this mountain. The feat required to climb this obstructive mammoth will require willpower, fortitude and discipline. From all angles, it is jagged and cumbersome. The only way past it is through it. And so, I climb.

This is rather a dramatic analogy to cleaning my room and I do not apologize for the comparison.

I have struggled with organization in my life as an adult. It seems, my mind cannot keep up with the chaos of maintenance. It feels like I am staring at a mountain with a horizon so high into the clouds, and realizing I have to get up one step at a time.

One step.

Only to realize I am walking backwards.

Inspiring for some, overwhelming for others. I was the latter.

I have struggled with organization in my life as an adult.

I have started to accept this notion that subtraction is foundation.

It sounds like an overly philosophical approach to cleaning one’s room. In essence, I have taken an minimalist approach in life. But in practical terms, I rid myself and my space of everything that is not essential to my well being.

I think I have decluttered over 50 percent of what I used to own and it feels so freeing. I have not looked back. In fact, this is considerable knowing I did not own a lot to begin with.

If you have followed my previous posts, I suffer from a cluttered mind. I cannot seem to see past my feet and it has reaped irreversible consequences in my life. It is often painful to think about.

The first step I have taken is to always make sure my room is clean. This idea was cemented after learning about Jordan Peterson’s Rules for Life; Clean your Room.

It felt like no matter what my day is like, no matter how lost I felt, how jaded my mindset, if only I could come back to a clean space, maybe that would be enough.

I still struggled with keeping a clutter free room. It is not that I had too many things. I just did not know why things were there. Until, I started to learn about the concept of essentialism.

Before being introduced to the concept, I used to have this weird habit of tossing things out when I was angry and ruthlessly decluttering my physical space.

Anger was and is a frustrating feeling, but simultaneously freeing.

Frustrating because there is something in the way, and I feel powerless. But freeing, because it gave me more clarity of things I did not care about. Things that did not matter. Did. Not. Matter. I talked about this in abstract in my last post.

Something about anger brought about a process of cleansing, really in a practical way. I tossed out everything in my way. I would rid myself of things I had hoped to pursue but did not. I am not sentimental when I am angry….or rather I am only concerned about the necessary.

I tossed out everything in my way

I still do not know what I want; it’s hazy and opaque. But, with crystal clarity, I know what I do not want. So, I start from the place of subtraction. A via negativa approach.

Having clarity, is like realizing that I do not want to climb that particular mountain, I do not care what is at the top of it. I still have to pass it, so I will walk around it and find something else.

Que in minimalism. Instead of waiting for anger, I take a more proactive approach. Why not eradicate distraction, clutter and sentimentalism in a tangible way.

I look at stripping away the unimportant, rather than learning to maintain chaos.

This ongoing decluttering process has helped my room stay clean.

This seems like a rather trivial or even juvenile accomplishment for an adult, in fact, it is. But, it is also my story as mundane as it is.

There is a point that subtraction can become addictive, a coping mechanism to overwhelm.

At this time, I will not attempt to derive a greater meaning to this than just having a clean space that I can come to at the end of my day.

When it becomes the only thing

I seldom write. I am unmoved.

But when a light gust of wind knocks me down bracing me to the dirt that once shifted beneath my feet, I become anchored to the ground. Unable to get up.

Still gasping for air. Feeling every sharp inhale. Exhaling shards of glass. Writing becomes the only thing.

It is in this solace of desperation truth becomes comfort and solitude becomes a fortress.

I once heard ‘obsession’ imagined as “being in a ditch and having bullets shooting at you from all angles. You want to get out, but you do not know where they are coming from”. I am not obsessed, but this is what it must feel like.

I do not know when I see more clearly; when I am on the ground seeing every crevice and crack, feeling every stone and deep edge in the trenches or when I am standing upright with my head fully immersed in the powdered clouds ignorant of myself and my place in the world.

This state of being is where I have lodge my temporary home. This is where I write.

Otto Regular

A drifting mirage

I do not know about you, but oftentimes (a lot of times) throughout the day, I find myself day-dreaming——-especially when I am at work.  I do not fully grasp my thoughts.  At that moment,  I am out of touch with reality (like one foot off the ground). In the next moment, I remember what is and I am grounded back to reality.  But what is reality? The passing moments or the unmanifested dreams? At that moment does not matter? 

 

A drifting mirage

A drifting mirage catches the glimpse of my eye

Faintly it escapes and softly it goes on by.

Into the breeze disappearing delicately

First lingering then evaporating vehemently.

Only in sprinkles can my thoughts commit

Taking on only what it will permit.

Speckles, shimmers, glazes of light

Only in the mist do my dreams recite.

Blurred visions of what is and what is not

A delicate dance between light and erratic thought.

Treading lightly before the vision escapes

Unrealized truth becomes obscure intangible shapes.

Nearly palatable, yet dissipating

In broad strokes the mind is painting.

The unseen

Is foreseen.

The horizon melts

Long-held desires felt.

A mirage drifting

A moment shifting.

The mosaic turns to glass

In remembrance of another moment past.

 

[accompanying instrumental ]