Carrie Link

BUSTED!

Yea, the Laugh Like You're in Third Grade bit was due to writer's block, but I needed to laugh. Nothing breaks a block like a good belly laugh I've found.

I woke up this morning with more confusion, more dead and dying thoughts crowding out the new and growing ones. I spent the night squeezing all the air out of inflated toys at Disneyland. I also obsessed about all the waste and hoped to God a good recycling plan was in place there. I fumed over my part being cut in a play we were doing in Disneyland. I had to publicly announce, at Disneyland, that my marriage was meaningful.

What can I say, I'm complex, and apparently, deeply disturbed.

And obsessed with Disneyland.

And getting my fair share of the limelight.

And recycling.

And in squeezing the life out of things around me.

Like I said, deeply disturbed.

Or is "disturbed" just a negative word for "processing?"

I'm going with "processing."

Plus, when I was squeezing the life out of all the inflatable toys, literally, helping them die, I was singing beautiful songs to them. I even harmonized. I chanted reassurances in their ears: Relax. Let go. All will be well. It was quite impressive. Even while singing I was thinking, "I'm such a damn fine singer, it's too bad only the dead and dying get to hear it!"



When I woke up I started the coffee, lit the candles, put on the pretty music, and took a look at my new peace lilies. They are big, in galvanized buckets flanking both sides of my desk. The little white stick thing that identified them for me, says they require very moist soil. It's a lucky thing they are so close to me, and yesterday's water glass. Check, check, they get a little baptism every single morning.

While sprinkling them I noticed a couple of leaves in the center that were struggling. They were brown on the edges and ratty. They weren't getting proper nutrition. They were dying.

And their dying was taking from the greater health of those around them.

I snipped them off and lay them aside. They will go out to the compost pile when I get around to it. That is their rightful place. They will die with all the other yard debris and spoiled fruit from our house. They will turn to mulch, hot and stinky, and we will spread their mushy goo on living creatures in our yard to help them grow. Their death process will nourish the life process of their fellow flora.

The life and death process both aspects of each other.

I am taking scissors to myself today. I am going to snip off the parts of me that are dead and dying, and put them where they go, with all the other dead and dying things around here. And while they wait to be turned with the pitchfork and spread over the spring land, their absence from the actively growing thoughts and ideas inside of me will be felt. There will be more room. There will be more nourishment going to the ideas I am encouraging to grow. Less nourishment will be needed if there is not so much decay hogging it.

Snip, snip.

Toss, toss.

Mulch and turn.

Death and dying.

Life and living.

Repeat.