Head sheds
I have a bad case of shed head. We have two sheds at my home. One is the back shed. That is the garden shed.
The garden shed contains the trimmer, the mower, and all of the hand tools we use for gardening. There are buckets and watering cans. All of our garden furniture lives there when the snow flies. Every now and then we clean it out. Then it contains space. The space the shed contains is self hating space. It seems to have a desire to eliminate itself.
The front shed? That’s the bike shed. It has bikes. It has surfboards. It has a generator. It contains my axes. It used to contain a snow blower. I gave that back. After that? The shed had some space. This shed is the back shed’s cousin. Self hatred seems to run in the family. The emptiness resented itself. The emptiness was eliminated by the spaces acceptance of a generator.
The sheds fill up. I empty them out. Then they fill up. I’m not certain what nature hates the most - a vacuum or an empty shed.
Brains are a lot like sheds. It’s tough to say what a brain hates the most, a terrible story or an empty head. We are terrible at emptying our heads. Even people who regularly mediate find that the place the snowblower used to live almost instantly is occupied by a generator.
What stories do you tell yourself about yourself?
What’s going on with your shed?
What’s it generating? Right now, nothing. But it has the potential for power should we need it. When do you turn your generator on? That sounds a bit naughty. Perhaps this is a draft of another post called how to turn on your generator.
mmmmmmm.
We’ll call this the ‘bonus post’ today - like the hidden track on a cd’s.
for those reading without cd’s some artists used to hide tracks by not listing them . Others, would leave like twenty minutes of silence after the end of the last track before starting a whole nuther song. Usually a pretty cool one too. The Marvel movies with their bits in the credits are similar yet less surprising.
Anyway… The footnote needed a footnote.
When I say ‘generator, where / who or what is the generator in your life?
Does it have ‘buttons’?
How do you get it going and turn it on?
When you do, what’s the power like?
Apparently I can’t afford a better house band for the head shed. And they only play one song.
When I am super busy, my mind is both focused and scattered. It's like a wave thing. Maintain intense focus. Relax. Waves of thoughts. Some things undone that need to be scratched off. Some are random creative ideas. It's the flood of funny creative thoughts that are the output from the generator. Like water through a sluice at a grist mill, focus and unfocus, they create a pump. The result is ideas: too many, too fast to capture. Hopefully, I remember the best ones and store them in the shed. No one seems to clean that shed out, so the ideas gather dust. Ideas are not meant to get dusty. Sunshine at the side of a lake seems to be the roomba for my head shed. It's been too long since the roomba was turned on.