Did you look at that picture and wonder why the hell I attached it to this post? I sometimes look at that picture and wonder why the hell I started the project it represents. What you’re looking at is the floor found underneath the paper and glue, which were found under the linoleum, in a lovely room my hubby and I are renovating for my new practice space. (Yay!)
The dirty bits of floor that you see revealed are a few square feet, painstakingly uncovered over a few hours, while we figured out the best way to tackle this project.
Now, you have to understand that we debated what to do with this floor. We factored in the cost of our time, the cost of a new product, the cost of our sanity. Of course, we get rolled eyes and furrowed brows from people wondering why we are doing it at all, when there are much faster, easier ways to a good-looking floor.
Covering the Soul
Opting to lay down new flooring would have saved a lot of headache and quickly given us a shiny new something to look at. However, I would have walked on it knowing the soulful hardwood was hidden under there, hastily covered up because it was too much work to care for. That floor is part of who this building is.
I kept getting pulled back to the metaphor of it all. How often in our daily lives do we gravitate toward the new and shiny; the fast and easy? How effective are those things at distracting us when our soul is calling for care?
So I sat down on my stinky, dirty, covered up floor. I looked at it peeking out in little bits, and began figuring out how to let it shine again. I thanked it for reminding me that this is the work I do with the beautiful people who flow through my practice, and it is the work I do for myself. We restore our trust in soul wisdom, allowing it to shine.
Usually this is how soul-work feels at the outset, too.
- Where do I start?
- What do I do?
- Will it be worth it?
- It seems so hard.
You feel the little niggle of something peeking through, and you maybe pick at it a little bit and find something beautiful underneath. It reminds you of who you really are, underneath all the slick, easy care cover-ups that maybe don’t fit so well anymore. Just like a shiny new floor doesn’t look quite right in a room that’s over 100 years old.
I’ll be back soon with an update on how this project is progressing. In the meantime, let me know what your favorite cover-ups are or how you’re choosing to get back to your true wisdom.