“My story might be your medicine, and your story might be mine.”
“Both my parents were hoarders and yes, the A&E type,” explaining what she meant by her apartment needing a shoveling today, a choice she makes to keep her world in order and to create more peace for herself.
“This conversation is reminding me that I promised myself I would write that piece on how my housekeeping has helped heal my C-PTSD.”
Look at what we now know of one another–and now that you’ve read this, what you also know about us. The headlines are deeply telling, and even without knowing the details, it taps our basic compassion for one another without the need to create a wound-based bond. Just simple, fluid acknowledgment.
And how’s that for something?
TRUTH SPILL: Here’s something that mirrors my inner life: If I know you’re coming to my house, you won’t likely experience my kitchen looking like it did in the photo above–the way it looks every morning after launching the kids to school. And I really wouldn’t want you to see the borderline paper hoard I have going on in my otherwise lovely office either. I won’t go on. The Truth is, if my best good friend called right now, saying she was five minutes away, I’d freak–and being quick-thinking like I am, l’d probably suggest she swing through Starbucks on her way asking her to, “Bring me something, would ya?” (STALL! STALL! STALL!) and even while she’s still on the phone, I would fly into full-on game show mode before I even put a bra on or spit-swipe the Alice Cooper wake-up-make-up still under my eyes.
So, I really gotta ask myself, “What’s that about?” And, I really oughta answer.
AND, If you’re feeling froggy, share a one-liner Truth Story about YOU in the comments. It’s more liberating than you can believe.
My truth story RIGHT NOW: Still in my bathrobe at 11:25am, eating pop corn and watching CNN – afraid UPS guy might deliver a package and I won’t be able to andwer the door due to my appearance.
HA! Jennifer, I was in that self-induced predicament until 1:30 this afternoon, and would still be if not for my need to attend a show at my daughter’s high school this afternoon. One time, before I wised up and posted a, “No Soliciting” sticker, I answered the door in a sweaty-pits, junky t-shirt and some second-day-worn sweat pants, with hair & makeup leftovers to a guy selling extermination service. He asked me, “Is the uh, lady of the house in?” I’m betting it remains among his most awkward door-to-door encounters. and I’m not sure who was more bewildered by the end of it. Clearly, I remember it well.
I need to do some cleaning up both inside me and my house and my car too. That being said if I were coming to see you at your house, I would be coming to see YOU at your house. I don’t care what your house looks like if I am coming to see YOU. Now if I flip that…I would probably flip out a bit if YOU were coming to see me in my messy house. It’s high time that I learn to think higher of ME! Ok…something just happened.
Thank you Truthfairy!
Something’sssss happpennnnnning! I love when I’m toggled to reach-in and start untangling something that’s been on auto-pilot for what is obviously, much too long. So, I can’t say just when I’ll get over the crisis cleaning knee-jerk . . . and something’s happening over here–Lynn, your comment helped ME take some things to the next level of consideration. Thank YOU, Truthfairy!