Sorting Stuff

I don't want to write. I don't really want to do much of anything. Nor do I want to do nothing. I will make myself write. A bottle wobbles out from the doldrums.

 

Karen has landed in a similar mental space. "I'm depressed. I think it's from going through all this stuff, so much letting go."

 

At the end of 2016 I flew to San Jose to help my brother-in-law empty his parents' house. They had to move into assisted living. Sixty years of middle class accumulation in a good-sized Sunnyvale home. One cabinet was full of their wedding presents––never used.

 

For several years we had all been watching the orderliness of this couple's life slowly deteriorate. Tools not being put in their carefully labeled place; piles of mail and papers and magazines not sorted. Clutter. We had all offered to help sort and straighten and thin the stuff, make it more manageable. All offers politely declined and evaded. Then it was forced upon them, faculties failed them and propelled into assisted living. 

 

 

 

The vision is for Ongoingness; Life continuing on . . . .

 

Flaneur -- Out for a Stroll

Contact 

Richard Valasek               1501 Kuloko St                 Pearl City HI 96782

    +1 (808) 256-1646

Click here to Connect

to e-mail form

 

Richard Valasek BA BS RN OP

I am I and my circumstance;

and, if I do not save it, I do not save myself.                       —JOSÉ ORTEGA Y GASSET

Changing the Conversation

Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. For some strange reason I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be. And you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be––this is the interrelated structure of reality.

        —MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.

Now, more than ever . . . our place in the universe and the place of the universe in us, is proving to be one of active relationship. That is more than a scientist's credo. The separateness of our lives is a sham. Physics, mathematics, music, painting, my love for you, my work, the star-dust of my body, the spirit that impels it, my politics,  clocks diurnal, time perpetual, the roll, rough, tender, swamping, liberating, breathing, moving, thinking nature, human nature and the cosmos are patterned together.

             —JEANETTE WINTERSON                Gut Symmetries

What you do, what you become, is not my concern.                      ROBERT MCCALL

The Story Teller

 

 

Yes, there is beauty

There is love

There is joy.

All you who suffer from

the world's miseries

Defend them.

                         ––EEVA KILPI

Print Print | Sitemap
© Richard Valasek