The Chaos of In Between
It turns out that it is impossible to replace carpeting that has stuff on it. We have much stuff, and since the law of gravity has not been repealed, a lot of the stuff is on the carpet. Or was. And it had to be moved; at least that’s what Rob the carpet-layer said. I take him at his word since he and his son moved most of the heavy stuff. But it’s the little stuff that makes me wonder. What is this? Why did I keep this? Remember when...?
I have a fearsome tendency to packrat-ism, and I am not alone. Getting rid of stuff is time-consuming work, and I have better things to do. Besides the disease has almost no symptoms - until it comes time to replace the carpets. Lumpy rugs are no good; the stuff needs to be moved.
I live in between, and stuff is a link to what was, but it crowds the corners of my life that could be occupied with better things. Stuff is for in between, and in between is not forever. Most stuff eventually becomes burdensome; Thoreau (great writer, lousy theologian) rightly observed that men have become the tools of their tools, an observation that is even more true in the 21st century than it was in the 19th. In between living carries with it the promise of a destination, and I will make it to heaven without my stuff and without missing it. Neither Joan nor Matt miss the stuff I hang on to. But I still live in the midst of this in between stuff, some of which, at least while I’m in between, is good. It takes wisdom to know what to release, and when. For better or worse, when Rob and his son are done later today, most of my stuff will still be here.
I live in the chaos of in between. But only for a while.
