Tuesday, October 5, 2010

It's around Here, Somewhere

The "here" is where ever you happen to be at any given moment; the "It" is whatever you happen to be looking for, either at any given moment or as a holdover from a previous search that has been ongoing.

More often then you can recall in reliable detail, the "it" was finally located in a place that speaks of superior-if-not-perfect logic, which is to say a place where it ought to be.  This of itself speaks to some measure of organizational skills.  This observation is of as yet immeasurable importance because in the writing of it, you have just made the discovery that you are not the great slob you had come to believe and ruefully accept.

How can this be so?

Socks in the sock drawer, printer toner cartridges next to the reams of printing paper, reference books in a single convenient shelf, etc.  But the "here" wherein "It" is somewhere around is a different "here" altogether; it is the here of connections stretched and extended beyond socks and the sock drawer.  The things that go missing are rarely such ordinary things that go missing such as reading glasses or house /car keys; they are the artifacts of thoughts and suppositions stunning enough to you to cause you in some way to note them on paper or on the computer, or to tear them from magazines or newspapers.  Perhaps they are then stapled or paper-clipped to other elements which speak to the connection between them in spite of their seeming disparate natures.  Perhaps they are stuffed into a folder or another container.  Perhaps they linger in some attempt at a to-do file.

Amid the chaos are the traces of your attempts to seek connections or note their possibilities.  It is not that you have any special antipathy for order; you salute it when you see it, often long for more of it about you, but in the longer projections of time you recognize your contribution to the chaos carries only a small degree of slob-ness; the rest is recognition that however beautiful and stunning some portions of the universe are, however many of the pictures of interiors featured in Architectural Digest suggest an orderly approach to comfort in the midst of the furnishings of life, there is adventure and comfort dwelling the curiosity to make things known to one's self.  If there is mess and clutter from the search, if the labor does not suggest immediate classification, if the clutter is from an ongoing search, so to is life an ongoing search, so too is the need to sift through the artifacts of clutter to find tools and mechanisms to cope with life and the self.

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