At the Laundromat

You can’t always get what you want–the words made immortal by Mick and The Stones, but doubtless shouted and moaned since the dawn of civilization.

What I wanted was an apartment that included, among other things, a washer and dryer.

What I got is an apartment I can afford to live in.

It’s about a hundred degrees inside the Coin-Op laundry. Sweat is trickling down my belly. I’ve used $6 worth of quarters to get two washers going.

It’s been a long time since I’ve done this, and it kind of feels more like going backwards than moving forward.

. . . feels more like going backwards than moving forward.

I came here to this place because I want to grow. I didn’t know the growing pains were going to be so severe. I didn’t know–not a clue!–that I going to collide with unlovely parts of myself I didn’t know I had, and even worse, parts of me I thought I was done dealing with. I expected to hit bumps, but I didn’t know they would be so personal and so painful.

I am fond of saying that I never want to stop growing. I even use that lame quote you see on this blog. But now the time has come for me to walk my talk. The decision I made to move toward growth is not going the be the path of sunshine and flowers I envisioned. It’s going to involve a lot of discomfort and demand a lot of hard work and self-care. It’s going to require that I don’t just view myself as open and loving, but that I also actually be open and loving, not only to those around me but to myself as well.

And who knows?  If I try real hard, I might get what I need to grow into a better, wiser person with fewer unpleasant parts to deal with and more good stuff to offer the world.