There are so many metaphors that fly through my head. Tonight's is a rural one. I have been tirelessly working on trying to improve myself. Part of that process is letting go. Last week was balloons this week it's chaff (and all it's associated dust). I'm not one for clutter. Clean surfaces and smooth lines for me! My ultimate home would be a converted warehouse in the CBD with polished timber and stainless steel throughout. Wide expanses of nothingness. No trinkets in my home!!
My body is a different matter. I hold onto shit far longer than I should. I can replay conversations from my childhood verbatim. I recall snippets from my teen years where insults were flung recklessly. They all still reside with me. I use them frequently as reminders of my failure, my lack of worth, my true inner self.
However, I am currently reassessing those conversations and comments and trying to evaluate them against the person I am today. I am constantly holding back. Afraid that I'll get hurt again. That I will be fucked over. But the truth is I cannot be more hurt or screwed than I am now. I might as well unbound the shackles and let go. Let the wind blow through my body and carry off the chaff and its dust. Get back to clean lines, hardwood and stainless steel. Find the solid foundation and stick with it. I am continually cleansing. It's an iterative process (akin to decluttering). Instead of throwing away material possessions accumulated over the years I am letting go of past hurts. My scarred body will one day be rid the crap and I will then have the capacity to refurnish and move in.
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