Cleaning Out and Up

Thoreau tells us he had one chair for solitude, two for company and three for society. I cleaned out Walden today and removed a chair or three. This event represents both a cleaning out: I removed the clutter which has obstructed the work. And this event represents also a cleaning up: I have prepared the space for the work to continue. Actually, I have always hated that word—work—because it represents something separate from play. Work has come to mean all that opposes pleasure, self-fulfillment, growth, play and fun. Yet, I am happiest when I am immersed in texts and thoughts. (Okay, okay, I experience other moments of happiness which equal such scholarly immersions, but except for the absolute love for my children, these other moments are not regular nor in my control, nor do I care to elaborate upon the nature of them here and now with any specificity at all. And besides, except for the love my children which knows neither time nor bounds, as I get older and older . . . those other pleasures . . . well, you know! They change!)

So, today I cleaned out and up. It’s a neater space, and I’ve started studying again. Lately, I’ve been reading voluminously but solely, and now I’ve returned to the study and writing phase of the play. I always feel so alive when this occurs. I once published a piece on my experience of the writing process. If you're interested and you ask nicely, I'll send you the piece. You know, I'm not too hard convinced.

I’ve never moved far from this place in my love of writing. Sometimes, I‘ve changed the Place, but never the Space. But every once in a while, I’ve had to clean it up and out.