A few years ago I read The Secret Life of Dust. That was during the time when a lot of single topic books were being published. There was one about salt, one about water, one about cod. I even think there was one about dead bodies. How weird is that?
I don't recommend The Secret Life of Dust. Finding out what it's actually composed of? Ewwww.
Metaphorically, though, dust is powerful stuff. It holds history; it is a collection of everything that once was, rendered finally into the tiny particles that drift lazily through beams of sunlight, or cling to every surface, that gather into what my father called "cobwebs." Under furniture, dust shape-shifts into bunnies. Wow. Dust is truly magical. It's no wonder so many authors have used the idea of dust, and the word DUST, in their book titles.
I have one client who has in-law problems. When they come for a visit, she'll book an appointment for the day they arrive, and another on the day after they leave. She takes such good care of herself. I always marvel at how "dusty" she feels after the in-laws leave town. She always seems coated with a thick layer of familial dust; the history of her husband's family settles into every nook and cranny of her being. That second appointment is always about clearing the dust. Swiffering, you know? I am polishing more than anything else in those sessions.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. In three weeks I'll be out of the house on Tennessee Avenue. Preparation for the move requires frequent and serious encounters with dust. I mean literally, figuratively, metaphorically, mythically. Oh yeah. Memories and emotions associated with my tenure in this house are swirling through and around my head and heart. So many memories. So many emotions. Whew.
No wonder I'm taking so many showers these days! I am washing away the dust, cleaning my physical, ethereal, spiritual and emotional body. I am unwinding the life I have lived these past nine years. I am letting go.
Shalom.
20 comments:
Oh yeah. When we first bought the country house, even before when we were contemplating moving, I thought I could never leave that house, the one in the city. so much of my life happened there. We sorted through all our stuff, took most, left some behind. Now when I go back, it's depressing. It only contains the left behind stuff and I see how run down the place had become, something that was well hidden when it was full of our life.
Yep. All part of the process.
Sending soothing energy to your feet.
Moving - funny it's your topic today. I am leaving this morning for a two day drive up to Seattle to help my daughter move into and get settled in a new place. A much needed distraction for me and a new and exciting fresh start for her. I wanted to say again how happy I am to have discovered your blog and I'm going to miss it this next week while I travel - hope to be able to still pop in. Thank You.
Onward and upward to create your new era of dust. :)
YES, a new era of dust. OK. I'm on it.
I remember a few years ago I went into my parent's attic to get some OLD items from my childhood. While up there this huge mess of dust fell on me and covered me in itchy red blotches. Now that was painful in more ways than one...
Reya I am thinking it's going to be harder to let go of your current place of residence than you might be thinking it will.
Here's to creating new dust!
I like the idea of being "swiffered." :)
I like the idea of dust. I used to joke that if I had to come back to an earth cycle I would return as a dust mote. Maybe it's not such a joke after all.
Moving is wrenching and exciting all at the same time. Have fun with it all.
i was there!
i started reading the secret life of plants a couple years ago...interesting up to a point. Dust actually sounds like a best seller to me. ha, maybe not.
did the reflection picture not come out?
Tom it did, but didn't fit with the content of today's post. But you recognize both of these shots, eh?
Can that sofa picture be more perfect?
As for those "singular" books, I own a few. A rather newish one with reflections on whales called The Whale: In Search of Giants of the Sea by Philip Hoare. I own a book about shit called Merde, and sharing shelf space with it is a tiny medical book I procured from used Library of Congress books called Syphilis. The pictures alone... Great conversation starters at lagging parties. I've also got a book floating around downstairs called Ants. I like these books. One of my favorites is The Handbook of Knots...and that's it...it teaches you, with illustrations... how to create something like 6,400 knots. OH...and another Dover book on Cat's Cradle.
Back to dust. Yeah. I've done a lot of clearing out, as you know, and it's a real journey. I have to admit, as you seem to realize, that you can never just escape with a physical clearing...it is always so much more.
How interesting that I just blogged about one-word book titles. I have read the salt and cod books as well as tons on tea and a couple on spices.
That dust book always intrigued me, but maybe I am attracted to icky things. I also loved the book "Rats" which is about just what you might think.
A book about shit? Wow. What next?
Oh. Rats?
Love the idea of the knot book.
Cube I was walking around with blogger Tom of Half-Mosse with a Twist when we saw the people with the couch. Love synchronicities.
Half-MOOSE. Damn typos. Full speed ahead.
Shalom darling
Loved the Secret Life of Plants
and
A piece of string walked into a bar and ordered a drink. The bartender said, "we don't serve string."
Next day same thing and same answer, "we don't serve string."
The string left the bar and rubbed up against a rough rock, then tied himself up and went back into the bar and asked for a drink.
The bartender said, "Didn't I tell you we don't serve string?"
The string responded, "I'm a frayed knot."
What a perfect astrological time to be shaking out the motes~
Jake looks like he's seeing something dog gone interesting!
Deborah apparently both of us have lost our minds this week. Ignorance is bliss, eh? Oh yeah.
Letting go is the key phrase between the solstice and the end of August.
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