Clear and Clean

With two recent snows, it was hard to realize how quickly summer was approaching. My loving other and I were readying for a new season. Our intention was to clear and clean things inside our house and out, in surrounding gardens.

Inside, I eliminated neglected items from closets, shined up tired-looking things and took inventory of what we were no longer using or enjoying. How could things that once captivated my attention, no longer hold any interest? I was surprised how freeing it was to cherish memories and also, let go of things.

Outside, weeds in flowerbeds nagged for pulling, shrubs begged for refreshment and hummingbirds darted about, looking for something more than our flowers had to give. Neighbors’ dogs were already making regular water stops, at our back porch, on their way home from daily romps through the desert.

In my physical acts of tidying and providing, I wondered how I might do the same spiritually. Surely, places in my soul needed sacred smudging. Where would I begin?

Although not as mesmerizing as looking at rings in a pond, my pebble sized intention rippled out, forming concentric circles. Looking at one circle at a time, offered focus in the spring-cleaning of my soul.

The smallest of my circles encased jugular issues, tender memories and people dear to my heart. Because of their nurturing impact, I held these closest.

The second layer opened to stimulating people and experiences. If I sensed that they continued to encourage my authenticity, or I theirs, I kept them within the second border.

The outer circle contained acquaintances and circumstances over which I have little control. They are in my life because they come alongside my involvement with family, community, a job, a calling, etc.

As I looked at each layer, I considered any recent shifts in my life. Which values had I polished and placed more prominently in my heart? What had I already discarded in a give-away pile? Who needed more attention and which situations required additional weeding?

Examining all that my life held within its undulating spheres, I found the inquisition more interesting than my replies. As I allowed one question to lead to the next, Frog’s rains began to gently fall, rinsing away confusion over what to clear and clean, making room for new relationships and experiences.

Sacred Ruminations*