dustbunnies

I like cleaning out my closet and untangling the little laces that collect along the floorboards. They remind me of me. I pick them up, tidy their frowny Selves and say, "Look little lady, you shine up like a new penny." Few things are prettier than a thoughtfully tucked closet space. It's a cubby corner that no one but yourself really needs to know about (or even look at for that matter). I think that's what makes it so pretty, really. You open the door and- ta-da!- a little cloth garden in full bloom! Each morning, just for you. When it comes right down to it, this is what I think matters: it's the cubbies that we could abandon (all the dustbugs we could squash and sweep hurridly under the rug, because they'll go unseen anyway). It's the long list of coulds that we could easily take, but choose to make lovely...to, instead, make our quiet, shadowed gardens. It's having something that might not even seem worth picking up and dusting off and pinning back up to bright eye level...but doing it anyway. Because you can. And no one else will or wants to. It's the people who do, depsite all the coulds. And it's certainly not easy. Some mornings, I wake up feeling like a long-lost, cobwebby sock. It's easy to sniffle and say, "Who will ever think to look for me down here?!" Those are the sorts of days that it's easy to throw a pity party of one. But how silly! People aren't socks, nor long-lost. People are people, of course. Perhaps we get shortly lost or mildly lost or terribly, scarily lost...but long lost is such a long time and too long a time to find yourself unfound if you can help it. And you can help it. Or someone can help you, if need be. People can pull themselves (or eachother) together much easier than any poor, pitiful, lost sock. And once you collect your pretty or handsome Self (which you must-must-must), you might be very pleased to see that, you too, shine up like a new penny. And then, you might just find that the sweetest way to spend your morning, afternoon, evening or goodnight is to put on a little tea pot, short and stout, hop to the bedroom, and clean the closet out. Perhaps you can then give the sock a helping hand (or foot).