I read a lot of novels, most of which feature tidy endings, resolving all mysteries. There, now I know that it WAS the freaking butler all along. The story might be a roller coaster ride, but with a clean finish. Real life feels messier.

I’m catching on that there’s unlikely to be a smooth transition. Yes, I’ll leave this fine place kicking and screaming, holding onto the door jam as the movers finishing cleaning everything out. No, neither the ending nor the beginning will qualify as tidy. I’ll leave unfinished business behind and subscribe to unfinish-able business in the replacement place. This might be the one certainty I’m holding.

Every place we’ve looked at, the landlord or tenant—or both—apologized for the mess. Some explained that it was moving mess. Whatever the cause, looking at rental properties could convince anyone that people live loosely; leaving not just loose ends and creating loose beginnings, but living loosely in between.

We’ve been in this place just long enough to find a place for pretty much everything. And I’m just anal enough to keep a fairly tight rein on the horses we have. Moving will inject an unaccustomed clutter, a loose chaos into my life. A loose beginning which could become the loose living I’ve long despised.

Sometimes, though, a loosening of the reins becomes necessary. If the horse knows the way, there’s no Earthly justification for holding on so danged tightly. We’ll leave loose ends. We can’t help but instigate some loose beginnings. Once moved, we’ll get to decide how loosely we choose to live.

©2012 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: Homeless