The walls I’ve never painted, ’cause I wasn’t sure I’d stay

HOMESLIDER3

There are a lot of holes in my walls.  Not big holes, but teensy tiny holes from push pins, nails and other small puncturing rods made of metal.  Sometimes I find myself in an absolute fit, filled with urgency and thinking, “I can’t put any more holes in these walls, because I might move out any day now and I don’t want to have to Spackle and paint over everything–it would take days to paint all of these walls, and all of the ceiling!”.  So there I’d stand with my panties in a bunch and my sense of self all defunct as I put a literal HALT on any semblance of personal belonging in a space that I’ve occupied for, oh almost nine years now.  I’ve lived here for nine fucking years, and still I’m reciting this funky mantra of non-commitment in my head like some broken Furby that’s been stuck in the closet and hasn’t been taught any new words for months!  MONTHS!

I do the exact same thing with painting.  I’ve wanted to paint my entire bathroom a bright green for about three or four years, and then do some bamboo mural thingy-mabob, which I envision will start at the baseboards and move in a wave-like stroke up the wall.  In my minds eye it would be stunningly vivid and as welcoming as a small bathroom with no Jacuzzi and a window as big as my head can possibly be: and that means it’s mega welcoming!

Oooooops, here it comes again.  That same broken Furby; “I should not paint, because then I’d have to paint over what I painted it as soon as I’m done, because I’ll probably be leaving at any moment.”

Seriously, what the fuck Aubrie?

I do the same thing with animal fencing.  Despite years of putting up and taking down fences, somehow I didn’t believe in using “cement”, and have always found a reason to abstain from using it.  Perhaps it’s because it costs more than just packing the dirt down with my mighty tamper (which is true, I won’t lie).  Perhaps it’s that I’m lazy (ok, that’s ridiculous–I’m the least lazy person in all possible ways that I know).  Perhaps I’m utterly terrified of being tied down, of being in a rut, of having to build then tear down again.  Maybe it’s that I’ve moved so many times–nine–in my life that I simply don’t know what it is to be “cemented” somewhere.  To call someplace home.  To hang my hat without thinking of the next defensive, tip-toeing step I’ll have to make.  But if that’s the case, then who’s fault is that?  Wow, there’s some serious opportunities for self reflection here.

I believe in metaphysics.  In fact I believe in it so strongly that I just know that all internal beliefs will come manifest.  This shines through me as I look back at my attempts to stick with relationships; even ones that wouldn’t work.  Even those relationships that I went, “well, OK, let’s see…” yet at the same time I was wracking my brain at how to kindly side-step the metaphorical gun aimed at my face.

So what is commitment?  Is it being able to paint one’s walls without concern of having to immediately paint over them?  Is it knowing that there will always be reason to hang a beautiful picture, even if tomorrow I’m uprooted and must take it back down?  Is this my metaphysical way of teaching myself to “live and let go”, and until the “letting go” comes I ought to live fully, without holding back?

I realize now that I’ve held myself back from my joy.  From my creative intelligence.  And all for the sake of saving myself a little bit of effort, despite the beauty and incredibly inspired authenticity that goes hand-in-hand with such a life.  I’ve actually been meaning to write this for awhile, and knew so much that I was there that I went ahead and bought two bags of cement.  I’m going to cement my very first gate post in.  I’m going to do it right, make it straight and take the time to make it beautiful in appearance and functionality.

Now’s the time to live–even if tomorrow my life is disheveled and I’m all messed up and zombies are making squishy, gross chewing noises at me from the other side of the window…  No, ESPECIALLY because of those reasons.  Life needs more beauty without fear of having to move said beauty.  Life needs more authenticity and fearlessness.  To live this life I believe I need to be more fluid and express willingness to change.  I’ll make that change; will you?

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