Wiley's Wisdom

Joy: From the Ground Up

Safety First August 26, 2013

Before this, it was a pretty simple battle. Me verses the toilet. Before this, the toilet is pretty much the only piece of furniture (if you can all it that) I am not allowed to claim as my own. Before this, it’s always been a losing battle for me since I don’t actually have any desire to try to spend any time on it.

Well all of that ends today. The toilet has welcomed a comrade to the mix of things, and I’m not so sure I can just sit by and let them win this one. This new piece of furniture is called a crib, and apparently it is where the baby will be sleeping.

My people put it together yesterday, and when they were finished I was certain the job couldn’t actually be complete. That can’t be right, I thought, as I eyed the high railings that start just an inch or so off the floor. So while they were away at that place called work today, I took time to think this through. Certainly it must be a mistake. There is no way for me to safely navigate into the crib, nor is there a way for me to squeeze underneath it.Life Lessons on Trust

I don’t understand. How am I supposed to protect this baby if I can’t snuggle with it in the night? It doesn’t make sense. Then again, I don’t suppose it makes much sense for me to be pairing the toilet and this new crib together on a battle against me for furniture supremacy. The truth is, I don’t mind not being able to figure out the toilet. But this, not being able to snuggle with and protect what promises to be one of the most snuggly and helpless creatures, this bothers me.

The more I pondered this situation, I was reminded of something I haven’t struggled with for quite some time. I have trust issues. They’ve long been collecting dust on one of the suppressed file folders of my little doggie mind, but they’re still there. That’s the thing about the past – it has a way of sneaking up on you sometimes. The problem is, I know it’s not my people who I don’t trust. Indeed, they are among the only people around who I wholeheartedly trust more than anyone. Clearly they know what they are doing with this crib contraption and I simply need to trust they are doing the right thing. Even if it means I can’t enjoy snuggle time with the baby who needs protecting.

So I am considering this a battle lost, and I’m okay with that (even if it means losing to team toilet). Instead of fighting, I consider the words of Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu who challenged “he who does not trust enough will not be trusted.” Step aside trust issues. It seems I’ll just have to find other ways of keeping my new little person safe.

 

The Silence Hurricane June 11, 2013

It was like a hurricane came through the house this weekend. My mom and dad spent the better parts of Saturday and Sunday whipping around cleaning and moving furniture. I’d never seen anything like it in my treasured time in my forever home, and it frankly freaked me out. Cleaning is one thing, but this interior design coup threw me for a loop. My mind filled with questions, the least of which was what brought this on? Why now? Are we leaving? What on Earth is going on?

While I found myself feeling inexplicably ill-at-ease and fearful of the implications of the changes, I remained calm with the hope that peace would be restored. The images of undressed beds, empty bedrooms, and torn apart linen closets I was experiencing brought to life a part of the Simple Abundance journey that I haven’t yet shared.

The recent musings of Sarah Ban Breathnach have focused on bringing peace, order and contentment to the soul by taking action to bring these things to life in the home. Since I have very little control over these things, I haven’t paid much attention lately to the suggestions to make subtle changes to rooms to allow more light into the heart.

“Many of us today experience creative silence,” Breathnach writes. “Not the hush of the heart necessary to bring forth the unexpressed from Spirit, but the creative silence brought about by circumstances we feel are beyond our control.”

Suddenly it made sense. Watching my parents work together to make our house an even more comfortable home no longer brought so many questions to my little doggie mind. Instead, I sat back and enjoyed the hustle and bustle. I realized that it doesn’t matter where this bed is or how the linen closet is organized as long as I have my own little safe haven of peace and serenity to continue my daydreams. I think we all need a place like that regardless of where we ultimately lay our heads at night. A little nook to call our own. Mine is my little doggie bed in the kitchen. More often than not, I prefer to cuddle up to whoever might be on the couch (or bed) but its reassuring to know I always have my little doggie bed to call my own. What’s yours?

“(We all need) a psychic space that offers passionate reminders to attend to your private, artistic impulses, a place to encourage you to reclaim your creativity,” Breathnach writes.

I’m not sure what sparked the hurricane of furniture in the Schmidt house this weekend, but I’m grateful it happened. What a pleasant reminder to silence the question-filled world around us so we can hear the faintly whispering tones of innate creativity coming to life.