A Window into Life in the Suburbs


"Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these." Luke 12:27 (NIV)

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Living in Boxes

I had such big plans for today... half a day to spend on my MOPS group's newsletter and to finally get it done. But with certain issues coming to light in the last couple of days, it seemed more important to set my house in order... literally... I felt compelled to go through the house, one segment at a time, tidying, making beds, picking up junk, bits of paper, vaccuuming, mopping, cleaning... pulling cushions off the sofa (a sight almost as frightening as Silence of the Lambs), cooking, washing...
You get the idea.
I hope to sleep well tonight. It'll be a nice change.

Not that my work is done... it isn't... That'll take more time than the number of waking hours I have in a day. Nonetheless, the entire exercise was cathartic. It was as if all that chaos around me was also residing in me. Making order out of chaos created a certain peace of mind within me.

But it occurred to me that during this rare exhibition of homemaking industry, that I have a lot of boxes. Lots. You know the ones: the big plasticky things from the cheap shops.
It's as if my entire life is organized into boxes and bags (oh yeah... I have a lot of those too). But then when one has the Leaning Tower of Pisa in one's lounge, it's clear that a more permanent location is needed... out of sight...
This led me, strangely enough, to hum of that song/band from the late eighties, "Living in a Box". Eponymous one hit wonder. Good looking, swanky fellers too. But it's been a very long time since I've heard it or anything about them.
The song reflected a certain kind of social claustrophobia that comes from a mundane existence... and their popularity was probably indicative of how listeners felt about their own condition. Plus it did have a danceable beat to it.
Some days I do feel claustrophobic -- locked in with kids but other days, being in the box can be a place of security... safety
But I don't just live in a box... I live in boxes too... Not just about the things I own... or the memories they contain... But I compartmentalize myself... At times I pull out the "Wife" box, at other times, the "Mother" box, still there's the "Teacher" box, the "Friend", the "Writer"... But at times, one can get so busy with filling these boxes, one forgets that the one that contains them all is the "Child of God" box. It's the one that keeps them all together.

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