Cussing or Cleaning
Greetings All,
I remember my father staying up all night to get way-too-hard-to-put-together items together for his childrens’ early morning rise of Christmas day. I’m sure I gave it no more thought than “neat”. Well some things never change I suppose. Last night the father-in-me spent 7 hours from 7pm to 2am tearing down my old office desk and building my new office desk. First of all I didn’t receive the new desk with all it’s parts and secondly NO INSTRUCTION MANUAL. So my map of how to put together my 700 seperate-parts desk was a googled photo online.
While I tore down the old desk I apologized to it for not taking better care of it and asked the deskto forgive me for never having cleaned it (physically and Ho’oponoponoishly). I cleaned and lived in that place where cleaning is everything. I remember appreciating how easy it was to get the 1000 pound desk down the stairs (I did all this “upstiars”) as a result of gravity and the slick relationship between carpet and smooth wooden surfaces.
Interestingly though when I hefted the first new piece to carry back upstairs suddenly I was cussing. I caught myself once I arrived in my upstairs office pondering how quickly I went from cleaning to data (cussing). It looks so easy when you are comfortable and there are no life pressures trying to drown you. One of the things I’ve found is that I feel more now as a result of cleaning. I know the part of me that DOESN’T want to deal isn’t happy about feeling so much now.
My wife was sharing a story laced with drama the other night and I finally had to raise my hand. I was experiencing so much pain listening to her story I had to make her stop. I’ve always prided myself on being a really strong guy. I’m not so sure anymore why that’s prideworthy. If these feelings or the ability to feel has always been present but I tricked myself out of them through the data-lie of “I’m a tough guy” then I’m ready to let go of that illusion.
So, back to the desk. The new desk was different in a few minor ways than the old desk. I was cussing and walking around it and NOT ACCEPTING the new desk I had just spent 6 hours building. I was not loving the new desk. I was projecting this faultiness onto the new desk. This particular desk holds most of my office equipment that represents tens of thousands of dollars worth of tools I use to create my income. It is the foundation on which those tools rest and I was cussing it.
When the 50 pound surface piece collapsed and fell on my face was the defining moment when I stopped cussing and thought about WHAT I was doing and WHAT I was creating. How typical of me. I remember how odd I thought Ihaleakala at first when I he talked about the sacredness of the room we were in and the chair we each sat in. He said (Zero Limits I) “The way you treat this room will tell me about the way you treat yourselves.” Does the way I treat my desk tell me the same thing? I believe it does.
Ho’oponopono is not always convenient, it’s not always easy. Sometimes, in the face of pain and tragedy or the sense of personal failure or personal loss it seems impossible to clean. That of course is the data speaking. Ihaleakala has suggested more than once “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you were to just clean all the time and avoid the pain and heartache of what the data will bring?” The first thing I’ve noticed with cleaning as much as possible nowadays is that the evidence of human drama has been shoved in my face. I’m like “I just want to clean” and all around me I get “But take a look at THIS!” The way that I describe this to my wife is often “Honey, life is so ‘twighlight zoneish’ now everyday!” and of course it is.
The desk is now put together and even when I am sleeping it serves it’s purpose. Perhaps I can teach the desk to clean.
I am the Organizer of a Meetup Group called Texas Ho’oponopono. Our first meetup is on 12/27/2007. You can find the details at http://spirituality.meetup.com/196. You can also find the Meetup.com decal in the right sidebar of this page (just click it).
I love you.
Bruce
