Give Me Promises, Labels, and Answers

Give Me Promises, Labels, and Answers

Give Me Promises, Labels, and Answers

I want badly to have things neatly sorted out. To know. To have all questions answered. As if somehow the certainty will help me feel better. Because then there won’t be the discomfort of the unknown. That once everything is tied up neatly in a bow and organized in my calendar (and later photo album), I can proceed with life. I’ll feel safer, secure, together and ready.

I want promises, categories, clear labels, well organized closets and homes, “do this for success” lists to follow, and clearly laid out paths to travel (for me, my kids, and, frankly, everyone else). Though kind of funny — even in organization and all questions answered, there are no guarantees, no security, no absolutely black and white, clear as day, this is it for ever and ever and it will never ever change. My organization, answers, and “clean” may look different than yours; the “do this for success” list that I love may drive you crazy. Even in one-size-fits-all land, no one-size-fits-all.

I’m suspecting there is no certainty, security, guarantee. Not now and not ever. Not cool, life (or shall I say “Well played — you had me going there, chasing my tail, or really, I had me going, stuck in tunnel vision”?).

What if I let this messiness and uncertainty and I may understand it today and then wake up tomorrow confused again (and ditto for the person next to me) be? And maybe even be okay, because it’s what it is?

I can fight not knowing with lists and labels and categories — and I think I’ll be stuck in perpetual fighting. There will always be another list to make, room to clean, folder to organize, and to do list to do, and I can do it, though this method of fighting is tiring. (I’ve lived there plenty; it’s like living in quicksand.) What if the sense/feelings of safety, security, together and ready that I’m looking for, which, perhaps, are a sort of inside calm, will show up more as I ditch trying to label, know, prepare, and organize everything and allow for things to feel/be messy at times? Allow myself to be confused and not know? Messy now…and messy now…and messy now…and it’s okay…

(And labeling, preparing, organizing, and cleaning aren’t bad things — I like an organized closet where I can find what I’m looking for a whole lot. A clean kitchen tickles me pink. I’m thinking it’s about my expectations and intention behind why I’m doing that stuff. If I’m trying to organize my life and the world into submission, it’s going to be an unending and brutal battle.)

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