Never Forever

It was Winston Churchill who famously said: “When you are going through hell, keep going.” Hell is not usually a nurturing environment so there is a human tendency – forgive my obviousity – to get the hell out of there.

But that’s not an obvious choice for everyone. If indeed we are in hell trying to realize a goal, going through the hell of reaching it is an accepted part of the game. Give up the game and you give up the goal.

Many accept a life of hell as “normal.” They don’t see a way out of their present circumstances or the way out is too hard. So they live in hell until they die. I often think of junkies and alcoholics who can’t or won’t get sober as living in that terrible place.

When I was drinking, I remember I couldn’t imagine socializing without a drink. Part of that belief was cultural. There were people who didn’t trust anyone who wouldn’t take a drink. I also imagine others’ sobriety made problem drinkers highly uncomfortable.

In that weird projection thing that people do, sober people – alcoholics or simply the unafflicted – were deemed suspicious. They were often treated as having or being the problem. The problem was not the thirteenth glass of beer you’d had since arriving at the pub a couple of hours ago. That was “normal.”

I am in the belly of the beast in the house sort, purge and trash exercise. I am beyond tempted to quit. I can’t, of course. Part of going through all this is because I need to meet obligations to others and to myself. But it is decidedly unfun.

Human beings acclimate quickly. Whatever circumstances we find ourselves in, we can adapt. It is part of our strength as a species.

Think of those “reality” TV shows about surviving in the wilderness alone. Participants are dropped in the middle of God knows where and their goal is to survive in order to make a lot of money. Their circumstances often overwhelm and defeat them.

But even in the face of medical advice and direction, many participants howl and protest about being taken out of that environment and losing the dream of “easy money.” Or can’t bear seeing themselves as failures or quitters.

So I am up and at ‘em again this morning. Bins to go through and contents to sort. Ancient bills and papers to let go of. Every day a little more is accomplished. Yesterday the full dumpster was taken away and replaced with an empty one. I hope to fill it before this is all over.

I’ve also learned that neither good times nor bad last forever. That is a simple truism that I’ve lived, so I’m electing to believe in that now.

This is hell for me. I will get through it. I don’t exactly know how yet but I realize the only choice is putting one foot in front of the other until I arrive at a better place. Hopefully much less cluttered and more organized.

Those may seem like simplistic goals. But offloading the accumulated detritus of a lifetime is as hard emotionally as it is physically. By organizing my insides, I am driven to get my outsides in order, too.

That reminds me of the insight and wisdom of a little boy trying to get his Dad’s attention.

On the coffee table, Dad saw a magazine with a picture of planet earth on the front cover. He said to his son, Do you see this picture of world, tearing the cover off the magazine? The little boy replied “yes”, thinking he finally had won, his Dad was going to now play with him!

Taking the little boy to the kitchen table and ripping the picture of the world into little pieces, mixing them up on the table and giving his son some “scotch tape” he said, “When you put the picture back together then we’ll play OK?”

The son said, “OK Daddy” and started to work on the puzzle. Dad went back to the living-room, sat on the couch getting comfortable and turning the “Big Game” back on, thinking to himself, it will take him all afternoon for him to figure that puzzle out.

Dad had no sooner started watching the game when his son came running into the living-room, shouting with glee, “I did it, I did it, look Daddy I did it, I taped the picture back together!” His Dad couldn’t believe his eyes saying, “How, how did you do it so fast?”

This little boy looked up at his daddy and said, “When you tore the cover off the magazine, I noticed a picture of a little boy on the back of it. I just knew if I pasted that little boy back together, the world would come together too.”

The full story is here.

Report Card

This pitching and packing up party is just about over. I promised I would check in on the results of my big purge and moving exercise.

And I am doing this update on a Monday, instead of the Saturday when I thought I would. The truth is, I wasn’t far enough along.

This has turned into a two-phase project. Part now and the rest next Spring or Summer or sometime in the as-yet-undefined future.

Two shipping containers were emptied during this process as was a storage barn in my backyard. Boxes and boxes and boxes of paper are tucked away in a tidy storage unit. For future reference. And review. How often have I said that over the years?

Clearing out the back shed meant effects only made it as far as the back deck. I learned my stuff was sharing house with a dazzling assortment of critters. Raccoons mostly I determined upon checking the stool samples they left behind.

Sometimes I think I am just rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic.

But maybe not. The 23 yard dumpster sitting in my driveway is full to the brim and will be hauled away tomorrow to make way for a smaller dumpster. For those things I have yet to toss.

There were some sad discoveries. Beautiful Italian leather shoes ruined by dampness. I would never have worn them again anyway. Random papers and receipts congealed and stuck together. At least it was an easy decision to throw those out.

Tomorrow the “deep” cleaners arrive. I can hardly wait. These are cleaners of the “I do windows and baseboards” variety. They are a dying breed and I’m lucky to have found them.

With all this detritus leaving my life, I am both relieved and a little scared of what will replace it. Naturally we all hope there will only be good things ahead which is unrealistic and unwarranted optimism.

But among the lessons I am taking forward from this hideous sorting, tossing and packing up exercise is that I will not have to face at least half of this ever again.

It was too much to hope that I could clear out every corner of my boxed up life in one go. But I got this far and I made real progress.

Maybe real progress is enough.