Lately I’ve been driven to get things done. Driven as if by a whip at my back, or the devil himself. I’m not sure what brought on this bout of frenzied need to step up the pace of the projects I have going, but something’s compelling me, full force.
Last night, for instance, after putting in a full day of busy work, I suddenly needed to change my room around. Not that I haven’t been mulling this over for months, but out of nowhere I experienced a sense of I need to get this done, now. The problem I encountered from the start was a) a lack of storage space in my room, and b) a lack of physical strength to move the heavy stuff.
I couldn’t do anything about the lack of space, but recruited my son’s muscles for moving the big stuff. Unfortunately for both of us, I didn’t ask for his help until I’d made such a mess of things that there was barely enough space in my room for him to move anything. There was no way I could budge my huge TV all by myself, so he lifted it for me, trying not to trip over the chaos on my floor. What’s worse, it kept shocking him before he was able to deposit it in its new spot. At times like these I’m glad he’s so easy-going!
Oh, my room was torn up for sure. I felt like plopping down in the middle of the mess and crying like a baby. I didn’t see any possibility of even finding my bed come night time.
I’d stacked all the books from my bookcase in the hallway, and after my son finished lifting the heavy stuff, my little granddaughter began carrying the books in to me, one or two at a time.
“Here Nana,” she said, obviously proud of her efforts, “I can help too! I’m a big girl!”
She actually saved me a lot of steps, for which I was very grateful. With the way my feet have been hurting these past few months, I appreciate being able to do as little walking as possible. When she’d finished carting in all my books, she brought me one of hers.
“You can have this one, Nana,” she said, holding it out to me with a sweet smile lighting up her face. When I told her that I didn’t want to take her book, her little face fell and she said, “But Nana, I want to give it to you.” Well. There is something to be said for knowing when to accept something graciously, and for recognizing that even though we may not need or want what’s being proffered so generously, sometimes the giver just needs to give. So I accepted the book with many thanks, and she gave me a big bear hug.
Oh, I like my room so much better this way! Things aren’t scrunched together so. I’m not sleeping with the corner of my desk practically right up against my head any more. Half of the bed’s still covered with everything but the kitchen sink, but that’s ok. It’s manageable. My parts seem to be breathing easier, so I guess maybe that driven feeling was them collectively saying, “Okay, we’ve been bugging you for months about changing this room around. What part of we hate the way the room looks now don’t you understand?” I can be dense at times, forgetting all too often that everything I do (or neglect to do) affects my entire system.
And now with my room re-arranged, I feel (oddly enough) empowered. Such a small thing to have such a powerful effect on everyone!
(Now I have a place for everything, and everything’s in its place!)
(My Renoir & Madeliene doll are keepers.)