Who knew that I would find all the answers to my life, in this moment, in a pail full of dirty diapers. But as I opened the lid on the diapers today to add another to the pile I noticed it was almost full. Almost time to wash....again. And just before bed last night I had folded and put away the last batch. It is an endless circle. Never the smug satisfaction of having everything tidily finished and put away. It's like a finish line that keeps moving just out of reach. Even though I know that I will never get on top of everything I still feel this burning need to "feel" on top of most things. To have my surroundings tidy and uncluttered, to clear out the junk, check things off the list, put everything away in it's place. But this is just an illusion anyway. Arbitrary at best. Like those diapers in the pail, swishing in the washing machine, snugly wrapped around bum, folded on the shelf... they are all in the middle of a process. No start, no end. Surely I can live more of life in "process".
The only real finish line in life is death and I am certainly in no hurry to get there so I guess "unfinished" will always be my state of being...
Ah well spoken! Just this morning I was thinking to myself as I loaded the washer with more laundry, when will I ever have all the clothes washed and put away? How come as soon as I feel like I have accomplished that, every dirty laundry basket is full? By allowing it to just be constantly in a place of process there is no room for guilt.
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