Image courtesy of piyato/FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Image courtesy of piyato/FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Usually at the beginning of the year, I try to de-accession some of my possessions. This year, I made a very serious effort at figuring out what I had that I no longer needed that someone else could benefit from. Unlike previous years, which involved looking through closets, this time my project involved much more.

It involved dust bunnies. Many dust bunnies. In places where I didn’t even know they could be.

At one point, I had to vacuum myself.

Where did all these dust bunnies come from? How was it that in my small corner of the world, I could have allowed them to happen? Or, are they completely removed from anything I’m doing and they just “are?”   (This last question isn’t very comforting. If the answer is, “yes,” then does that mean that, no matter how hard I try to avoid them in the future, they will still take up residence?) Does the presence of dust bunnies mean I’m not a good house-keeper? Do they mean that keeping a neat home is the ultimate in an exercise in futility? Or was there some other lesson to glean from them, something beyond the mundane?

As I moved and cleaned and vacuumed and rearranged, I realized that I had more to give than I’d imagined. And, I thought about the other “dust bunnies” that accumulate, too. Unfinished feelings or actions that have lingered and gathered into larger-than-life balls of internal “stuff.” Or, perhaps, because of illness or pain, there are things in our lives that we thought we’d use or need, but have not and so these, too, have sat idle and gathered – dare I say it – another kind of dust bunny.

Disturbing dust bunnies is a messy thing, I discovered. But I’m glad I did it. For, as horrible as was my allergic reaction to the whole process, I discovered many things that I could give to others. I also now have clean, more open space, which has given me a lighter and brighter view of where I live.

Whether real or of a more personal kind, dust bunnies, when stirred up, are something to sneeze at. But when taken care of, what is left is, truly, a breath of fresh air.

Blessings for the day.

Maureen

 

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