Sacred Musings

Sacred Musings, 20 x 24

Soon after we purchased our first house, we enthusiastically set about ripping out anything we disliked.

The house was ancient and sat on the sidewalk. A tiny room, for a washing machine connected the kitchen with the living room. Particularly abhorrent to me was a peach-coloured paneling intended to imitate tile.

We had a crowbar and a mostly empty barn which was optimal for stripping the house.

The house had two kitchens, side by side, presumably a solution some domestic warring. On the right of one sink was a hand pump connected to a cistern in the basement. Chrome edges were screwed along the edges of the grey faux-marble counter.

Once we had exposed swaths of lathe and holes of various kinds we looked at each other in surprise. I’m not sure what we expected to reveal. Panelling had been put up to cover lumpy plaster and exposed pipes.

I didn’t know what drywall was, let alone knowing what tools or skills we didn’t have to fix this situation. So we lived with it and found the holes were a terrific spot for mouse traps.

For years.

Add several decades, we have accrued tools and skills. The journey from dumbfounded to astonishment and utter paralysis, has inched towards, not exactly competency, but a willingness to do it wrong, repeatedly. Whether it’s the handyman’s special or marriage or painting or business or parenting, you gradually swap your ego for some humility.

The process reminds me of that raw house we bought with such innocence.

Our helplessness, in the moment, seemed unforgiveable.

With time, I have developed an affection for that peach panelling, as well as the vinyl (designed to look like Victorian rugs) that we hauled out of that small house.

***

The joint in my left thumb is 50% functional.

Okay, I’ll say it-- it might possibly be maybe arthritic.

At first my catastrophic brain kicked in, imagining myself prone, unable to paint, forevermore.

If you are looking to concretize your anxiety, I recommend infusing your beliefs with Permanent and Pervasive qualities. Also don’t forget to take things Personally.

I have learned to chat with my amygdala.

My affection for unpolished spaces seems a salve. But it is also a muscle for appreciation for all that is unfinished, unsolved.

There is some urgency in cultivating this skill.

Or, perhaps it will accrue, without my efforting.