I hate having to take a dump when I'm trying to work in my office; trying to focus. Probably not healthy to deny your body of its natural functions, though. So I make the trek downstairs and hang my jacket on the back of a bar stool in the kitchen. Down to business. On a good day, I remember to check the amount of toilet paper on the roll before I sit down. I usually forget to do that, though, but don't worry, I wont share any of my oops poops stories with you.
I brought a book with me today, for good measure. A daily devotional, actually. It feels slightly irreverent to read a daily devotional while conducting bathroom business. A 3 minute read couples nicely with a 5 minute task, though, I'm just saying.
Anyways, duty complete; I'm in the kitchen putting my jacket back on and my eye catches the basket of books that has been sitting in the kitchen for 6 days now (since we went to the Book Thanksgiving). I suppose I should take these up to my office while I'm making the trek back up there. I set my daily devotional in with the other half a dozen books, and carry the small black basket upstairs.
I step back into my office studiously looking over the 3 book shelves, desk, filing cabinet, and side table; looking for a place to set the basket down. Every single surface area is covered. Of Course, I admit to myself with affirmative disbelief. Of course every single surface area is covered, even though it feels like I just moved into this huge office!
My home office used to be a single desk at the foot of my bed. I move into this huge room thinking it's more than I could ever need, and there you go, already full to the brim in only 3 months.
We're so good at filling spaces. Us humans. I really identified this truth when I met the Pilgrims. The pilgrims were what you would imagine in the most modern sense of the word. By choice, they were spiritual travelers who had no homes and only the possessions they could carry on their backs and bicycles. They really loved serving people and sharing God's love with people. These weren't just lazy guys who didn't want to work. They had all these hand outs they liked to share with people. Things they wanted to share about God. Real genuine salt of the earth type guys, prophets some might say. Lots of papers they carried around the country with them.
You wouldn't miss these guys if you did see them, too. Super gargantuan beards, and they wore these tunic type of aprons that one of the female pilgrims made them. So they looked kind of homeless, but with real kind eyes and joy, and with the aprons on, they're different, you know? Some of these guys had been at it for over 20 years, so these were like, real professionals, as far as pilgrims go, I guess. Really interesting guys, probably some of the most interesting people I've ever met.
So anyways, the Pilgrims are staying at the house I happened to be living at at the time, and my pastor has been talking with them, and they want to share all these "documents" they have, all these papers they've been carrying around (I think they had most recently rid their bikes from North Carolina to Washington state, if that gives you any idea of how well traveled these guys were).
So my pastor comes back a couple days later, after having had some time to think about these traveling pilgrims. He knows they're not big on technology, but he had put all of their documents on a thumb drive, and he offers them the thumb drive. That way they don't have to carry these stacks of paper thousands of miles on there bikes. They can just find a computer to plug the thumb drive into and print what they need. Micah, the lead pilgrim, he says "thank you, but you know, it seems no matter what space we seem to free up on the bikes, it always manages to get right back taken up with something else. There's always something to take its place."
His respectful refusal got me thinking about that principle. The principle of the relationship between stuff and space. I think there's really something to it. I'm an aspiring "less is more" kind of guy, I think there's a real value in protecting our space. Being able to say "no", to some things. There's another thing to think about, I know it's tough for many of us, including myself, to deny things. To just say "no", sometimes. That's why I sometimes I purposely choose to exit through the door at the grocery store that has the little girls selling cookies out front. "No thank you", I practice saying, as I break a little girls heart.
Some things we just don't need,
and we need to be able to be OK with that.
So I'm standing in the doorway of my office taking a slow double glance over the room. I haven't been saying "no" very well to my surface areas. I reason the 2nd shelf of the "junk shelf" (the shelf I put stuff I want but don't care about on) looks like the most fitting contender. I just have to push my old reading glasses to the side as I wedge the basket onto the shelf just far enough back to not fall off.
My old reading glasses. "HA!" I think to myself. "What a waste." I got them a few years back before I got off my Dad's health insurance. Right before I got off the insurance, actually. It was all a part of my sneaky plan. Get the goods and get out of town. Not a part of my plan however, was the extremely powerful prescription the eye Doctor gave me that I was never able to get used to and just plain made me nauseous. I guess the joke was on me. No more health insurance and glasses that made me sick, great.
I reflected on how much those prescription glasses probably cost the insurance company, probably $300. What a waste. I bet they would be perfect for someone, maybe 1 out of a million people might have the right eyes. It would be difficult to put them to good use. It reminded me of the blinds I ordered last month that came in the wrong width. 3" too wide. I was so pissed. Luckily I called the company, though, and they sent us a brand new set of the right size blinds.
Now we have this extra set of double honey comb light filtering top down bottom up cellular shades. Off white. Alabaster I think is the technical color. I've learned quite a bit about blinds, these are nice blinds, I love them. But these 2 misfits worth $156.73 are useless now. Want them? You just need 25.25" wide windows that are 48.5'' tall. And you only get those 2, so they're not going to match the rest of your house. How do you like them apples?
Yeah, I might as well sell them as a package deal with my $300 prescription reading glasses. Maybe I could market them as beer goggles and togas? "Let me tell you about these double honey comb alabaster togas here... But wait, there's more! They come with FREE beer goggles!"
Good thing I have a "junk shelf" to keep stuff like this on, even though I'm running out of room. At least I don't have to carry it on my back to North Carolina. I should probably quit wasting my time writing about nothing and go create a Craigslist ad for my togas...
