The Human Junk Drawer

When the people I care about have something going on, I know about it.
Whether they tell me the story or not, I pick up on it.
And when they do want to talk, when they need to feel the feelings and say the things, I’m the person they come to.

Then, they move on.
Some work through it, and others just shift focus or gloss over it.
But however they move forward, it’s rare that they circle back to tell me the conclusion.
So I’m left standing in the middle of their challenge, while my brain keeps connecting the dots for them and my body keeps feeling the emotions.

I’ve realized that I’ve become the junk drawer for my people, the place where remnants get stored, just in case.
And the problem with junk drawers is this: you never really know what you can or can’t throw out.
That random key? If you toss it, you might later discover it opened something important. That’s why it was kept in the first place, right?

Being the junk drawer is both an honor and a challenge.
So cleaning it out, from the things I’ve stored for the people I love, is a thought filled process.

To navigate this drawer of all the things, I begin with curious awareness, a quiet wondering of: What is this, and what do I do with it?
For me, this is what it looks like to stand in the middle, holding the pieces, searching for the wisdom that might be waiting on the other side.

While I’ve figured a lot out in life, I’m far from being a master of it all. I’m always learning from my own experiences and from others, and right now I don’t have a conclusion for this one, yet.
But I knew I needed to share this, just in case someone else is sorting through their own drawer.

Take what you need, leave the rest, and keep going.