something like a time keeper.
These old houses have countless entryways for life outside to seep in. One could never cover all the holes. Ants, spiders, weevils, lizards, dare I say roaches. Most are just passing through, trying to find their way back outside. But the spiders, the spiders like to linger. They can sense which corners are suitable for building, living, eating, mating and they move right in.
First the webs are invisible to me. The spiders mind their business. I mind mine. But with time, these corners become matrices of dust and debris. I noticed within the last week or two that it was time again for me to cut through the cobwebbed clouds. Even after taking note though, I took another week to get it done.
For me, cleaning and thoughts about time go hand in hand. I took the vacuum hose to these spider mansions and wondered, when is the last time I did this? I remember the day somewhere off in the distance and the space between then and now feels like a blur. But that moment, my knees pressed into the wood, felt like a checkpoint. I checked in on the story line of my life and asked where do I stand in this story? What does my character represent in this narrative? Being honest with myself in answering that question forced me to re-calibrate, realign. The corner clearing ritual was not only physically cleansing but also gave me momentum to think about clearing cobwebs from my personal relationships. I need to ensure the channel between me and the people I deal with is clear. And sometimes that means having tough conversations.
Inevitably, life’s cobwebs will return. and as they do I welcome them as check points, as opportunities for realignment.