Do Differently

My existence, so far as I can tell, is largely rhizomatic. Not always. But often. Most often. My life tends toward a nonlinear network more than a bifurcating path. And yet some pivotal moments stand out — opportunities, considerations, deliberations, decisions, actions, and consequences — that fundamentally alter the network. Such moments, beginnings and endings, for example, can be obvious. But sometimes they’re more subtle, hinging upon a mysterious fulcrum, a choice made inadvertently or in haste, a decision born of passion. I’d like to consider today’s Bloganuary prompt with an eye to pivotal moments along my otherwise rhizomatic existence.

What could you do differently?

Everything. No, not everything. But, looking back it’s interesting, even surprising, to imagine the implications of doing even a few things differently. Just a handful of changes could transform the entire rhizomatic network of life. Reviewing some of my life’s pivotal moments, hypothetically altering choices made, the entire map moves. A protean mobile of interconnected effects.

Meeting Susan, my future wife; losing one of my closest friends too young; losing my father-in-law, also too young; marrying my wife; purchasing Rosslyn to create our home;… Like a three dimensional kaleidoscope, total metamorphosis results from each small turn.

But this game is hypothetical. What if the change(s) is/are are actually made? What if we shift from the hypothetical past to the present? what could I actually do differently that might effect meaningful, enduring change?

Essential Or Not

My years at Rosslyn have been a time of gathering, collecting, and curating. Ample house and outbuildings. Ample acreage. Accumulating possessions was perhaps inevitable. Furniture, art, decor. Toys and tools. Bikes, boats, tractor, Gator, and all sorts of property maintenance equipment. A startlingly expansive store of architectural salvage, lumber, and building materials.

Twice over the years we’ve hosted mega yard sales endeavoring to purge and re-home. In both cases we recirculated our unnecessaries and — all too temporarily — celebrated the edited, pared down, minimalism that resulted.

Whether incoming items filled the voids or our perspectives adjusted, allowing us to realize just how much more we could/should dispose of, I’m aware that one of the things that I can do differently, that I NEED to do differently, is to downsize further. Acquire less and eliminate more.

I need to evaluate the minutia as much as the biggies. Essential or nonessential? Fundamental or filler? Additive or ready for recycling? Discretionary doo-dad? Let it go. Optional, outdated, or simply unused? Let it go!

It took my me some text to talk my way into this post. Not 100% sure why. Rereading the above, my inclination is to redact ruthlessly, trimming this meandering and indirect introduction.

But I realize there’s more in there than I care to admit. I’m actually working on something. It’s just that most of what I’m working on isn’t figuring out how to cull the nonessential. Ironic. And I’m going to own it, stet it, as a sort of accidental honesty. A narrative artifact that’s more revealing than intended.

But now, going forward, I’ll begin to do differently. Less. Is. More. Starting now.