intentional vacuum

Nature abhors a vacuum.

That certainly explains the state of my house. ;) When I get stressed or am feeling doubtful and uncertain -- in the absence of tranquility -- my house has a tendency to get cluttered. Things really got out of control after Nanook's death, and the chaos came home to roost in the midst of Journey's illness and then in my dealing with Lakshmi's anxiety and socialization problems. After that, I suppose it was a matter of inertia; even though my living space was uncomfortable, I was exhausted and addressing organization required more energy than I had to expend.

But I've slowly been crawling back out of this. Before I lived with animals, my living space was very tidy. I can assume I'm naturally orderly. Unfortunately, I didn't develop too many new organizational skills to adapt to living with the four-footeds.

I'm taking some time now to more actively pursue the life I choose to create for myself. I've learned through recent experience that I do want a loving partnership. I want marriage and a child. As I'd been growing older, and was still single more often than not, I'd gotten very comfortable not making space for anyone else. It's absolutely appropriate that we fill the gaps in our own lives (and not expect someone else to do that for us), but as with any new venture, we do have to carve out the time and space necessary to let the new energy in.

When I was in college, a good friend of mine gave me his perspective on why he thought I was still single. He told me that I was absolutely what he and many other men were looking for -- attractive, smart, vibrant, confident, funny -- but that my life seemed so full that he wasn't sure where or how he'd fit into it. Part of that is reflex -- filling my own time with my own pursuits, since there wasn't anyone around to share in it -- but I hadn't seen how I'd unintentionally been edging out what I wanted.

More recently, I was honestly surprised by how much time and space my relationship required. And even though that is on hiatus now, or possibly even over, I got a wonderful taste of not only what I do absolutely want in my life, but of the fact that I need to get better about making room for it.

In my neighborhood, there are between two and four people living in condos the same size as mine. There are also quite a few singles, like myself, but these are typically older women who have family regularly come to visit. Sure, no one else has a banshee dog like I do, but I still look around my space and wonder where a family would fit. (Ideally, I wouldn't be living here with my family -- but would be somewhere with a fenced yard -- but that's beside the point.)

My bedroom closet -- built for two -- is full, mostly of clothes I no longer wear. My bookcases are stacked with volumes I've not touched in years. And so on. If I were going to share my living space with a partner -- either having him move in here, or my packing up to join him -- I would certainly want to pare down my possessions. So why not begin that process now? Why not start, today, to clear the space -- in my life and in my home -- for the reality I want to bring into being?

Nature abhors a vacuum. Isn't it reasonable to assume, then, that creating space in my life for what I want is a more active invitation? I should tackle that closet anyway -- there are perfectly good clothing items in there that simply aren't being used -- and in the process, I am also clearing the way for my partner's clothes, literally and symbolically. Just as making a clean sweep of my desk when completing one project makes room for the next, so too can de-cluttering my living space help to attract real love and light into my life, and make it welcome.