Everyone Who Passes Thru

Everyone Who Passes Thru

Dum Dum Da Dum Dum…Boom Boom, the doorbell rings, or the familiar creak of the door tells me someone is at the door of my home. The beat of the knock, “Hah, I know who that is,” I think, as I smile on the way to the cherry wood door. The chimes echoing thru my halls, they make me roll my eyes at the thought of another salesman or random religious representative plastering their plastic smiles at me thru the door chain that I refuse to unleash. The squeaky hinges warm my heart as I await a piece of my heritage or ancestry, a piece of my heart, to find me in my favorite resting place. Each day someone passes thru the door, or is refused entry. Who I allow in my door is always up to me and only me. The consequences of the acquaintances are the result of my decisions. Sometimes a total demolition can result from that familiar loose floor board. I’ve even seen a few doorbells transform over time to become a recognizable footfall.

The entrance is just the beginning. There are also living rooms, the dining rooms, the bedrooms and kitchens. As time passes, so do people. They come and they go, some leave permanent marks, others can be swept away as easily as the daily dust. Some, they aren’t gone long enough to make a reminder necessary; they, themselves, are somewhat of a fixture in my abode. After years of dwelling within my walls, nothing is left as new and perfect as it was when it first entered in, including me. I’ve stubbed toes, knocked shins and pinched fingers in almost every room. My favorite spot on the couch reveals the impression of my butt, hatch marks in the hall bear witness to my children’s growth and my fridge has a small dent where my hip bounced the door closed with strength more than necessary. I influence my house just as it influences me. Bumps and bruises, nicks and scratches…they are all a part of time and life.

Life is similar to the description of my house. New comers are like furniture that you may want to keep or may want to pass. Some furniture you pass on to be a family heirloom or antique. Other pieces are tossed when the wood splits, springs poke thru or glass cracks. Sometimes it is so much easier to dump the broken piece and start again than to deal with the upkeep. Sometimes, we can’t handle the eyesore, but we don’t want to get rid of the piece either. So we store it in the garage or attic, not willing to let go, even when it doesn’t serve a purpose anymore.

Well this is a call to clean out your attics, garages, or basements. It’s not easy. But, clutter can make it easy for rats and other pests to hide in plain sight. Be about rising above social pollution and clutter. Let’s see thru clearer air, hear clearer door bells, and be able to walk thru the halls of our lives with the greatest of ease.

Copyright 2009 Natasha Guy