One of the things I’ve been messing around with lately is my relationship with piles of things.
I pile. I pile a lot. This is a known thing.
But it’s not just the usual Stacks of Useful Paper that I tend to think of inhabiting my pile-loving world. And it’s not just messes of iguanas and doom.
There are piles of information in my head, piles of Direct Messages on Twitter, piles of messages at the Frolicsome Bar, a wide variety of piles.
These piles serve a purpose for me. Or really: a couple of purposes.
And they are full of patterns.
The first adventure.
The mission: figuring out what I need and what the piles need and what the iguanas need.
There have been an astonishing number of resulting shivanautical moments of bing bing bing ohmygod that!!!
And much scribbling down of information and mapping of connections.
So. I thought I’d share the part I started with.
It’s a series of my Book of You questions. And here’s how I used them:
Two rounds. First round: total free-association whatever comes up. Second round: taking a bit more time to think things over.
The first round is here. I can post the second more-in-depth round too, if people are interested. Let me know.
Hey, piles. What do I know about you?
Why I make them
Because it’s what I know.
How I make them
I can’t decide what to do. The iguanas take up so much space and so I hide them. I hide from them too, but mostly I am helping them hide.
The purpose they serve is
Monuments to despair and monuments to hope.
What I know about them, me and our relationship
We both misunderstand each other.
Where the pain is
Having things in common with X. Plus all the iguanas.
What they symbolize
Wait, what? Support?! Interesting.
Why I need them
An identity thing, maybe. Who would I be without them? No, it’s about death. It’s about goodbyes.
Why I’m done with them
They create walls and I am a wall-whisperer.
What is the connection between my past and piles:
The version of me who is done with them.
She has other ways of working with systems and containers.
What I don’t know yet.
How to trust.
Playing. And the comment zen blanket fort.
What I would love:
If you wanted to think out loud about any of those questions, investigate your own relationship with piling, or do some of the super-speedy word association thing too.
A cup of tea.
If you would say Vhoooooosh! Which is the sound of stuckness dissolving and all the right spaces opening up.
What I would not love:
Please no advice, recommendations or pep talks. I am doing this in intimate thing in my way and in my own timing, and I need a lot of spaciousness with that.
As always, we all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process.
Love to all the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads.