Some people clip coupons. Some people have garage sales.
I launder dress shirts.
Sometimes Mike irons them, sometimes I do. I set up the ironing board in our bedroom, click on the television and set to coaxing wrinkles out of fabric.
Tonight, while smoothing seams, I was watching 'Hoarders.' You know, the documentary show about people who collect and stash and pile. It's compelling, heartbreaking, fascinating.
And I ironed and watched, ironed and watched.
And then realized that I was ironing wrinkles into Mike's shirts. And then realized the apt metaphor that was for what I was watching on television.
The repitition of certain habits and behaviors, in their repeating, making permanent patterns and creases in the paths of our lives.
I suspect we all have ironing and hoarding areas in our lives. Places where we hoard unforgiveness. Anger. Bitterness. And we iron that fabric of feeling over and over, creasing our hearts, making labyrinths.
Ironing and hoarding. And life lessons. And questions to ask myself.
As I iron dress shirts for Mike.
Time for some soul spring cleaning.
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