Originally published March 11, 2020
“And you better wear your shades
The spotlights here can burn holes through the stage.” -Lupe Fiasco
I made it through another Mercury retrograde period. Barely. And not without the uncomfortable, yet typical, communication and scheduling difficulties. And not without a lot of time spent examining darkness. Chani Nicholas once described Mercury retrograde “as shadows searching for light.” Well, I was deep in the shadows and Monday’s full moon provided the light.
Last week, I mentioned that I started listening to the audiobook of The Hoarder in You. I learned that compulsive hoarding disorder is an anxiety disorder. I also learned that, while I do not have compulsive hoarding disorder, I do have hoarding tendencies. Now that I have completed the book I have additional takeaways.
Why am I possessed to pick up every feather I see? What do I think will happen if I leave a beautiful rock on the trail? Do I have to bring shells and bottles of sand from every beach I visit? What’s up with all of the random sticky notes and journals and reminders that are written on the backs of flyers? Why do I think I need all of those things indefinitely? Why do I keep projects I’m no longer interested in completing?
I feel that there are profound lessons for me to learn about feelings of insecurity. About the fear of losing the joy that certain items brought me in the past. About trusting the process of letting some things go in order to make room for better things; in both the physical and emotional realms. I feel like I need to be reminded of the difference between appreciating beauty and owning (or hoarding) beautiful objects. And to also be cognizant of how my outer environment reflects my internal atmosphere. More clutter, piles, and collections generally mean I’m experiencing more anxiety, scattered thoughts, and depression.
What I know for sure is that I’m tired. I’m tired of looking at things that don’t bring me joy. I’m tired of packing, repacking, and storing items I never use. I’m tired of my home’s small square footage being covered by things I don’t want. I can’t walk away from the clutter in the darkness now that it has been exposed by the light.
It feels harsh when bright light shines on you while you’re sitting in darkness. It’s tempting to close your eyes or, at least, look away. It takes a moment for your vision to adjust. And it takes a moment more for you to accept what’s in that dark room with you. All of the things that have been there yet hidden. Thank you, full moon. I now see what the retrograde wanted me to examine.