exclusively Skirt in the Kitchen
These are moments. They are leaving us. The seasons want to change again, like people. They want to be fickle.
One moment, they wish to hear the birds flutter through tree limbs; the next, the seasons long for summer sun, bright and gold. Then it’s time to go into rest, let the days get shorter. Eventually, the seasons change to winter when it’s time for the earth’s slumber.
Like the seasons, ‘Dirty Dishes’ has had its moments of fickleness. It’s a segment that ran its course for approximately two years, then was set back, put into draft-mode. Coincidentally, it was the highest number of page views for Skirt in the Kitchen. I wrestled and toiled with the aspect of bringing Dirty Dishes back, giving it its spotlight again, but at Skirt’s new home address.
Dirty Dishes was as plain and as real as-dirt-the filth and crud on things, on a lot of unmentionables that people liked to read about but not talk about, at least not to me, unless they were e-mailing me some not-so-good letters a b o u t Dirty Dishes.
There were scolding remarks, needless and wrongful advice, moral judgments and high-mindedness from “perfect people of society” as I’ve heard it be said more than I care to remember. I wasn’t as thick-skinned as those large ripe tomatoes I had growing in the garden through summer sun. I had a baby-faced interior with a few crow’s feet every time I had to read words that darted me like fine needles, and I don’t mean pine straw.
So I removed Dirty Dishes. I actually missed it. It had been a place where I could t r y to carefully vent. It was where no makeup was worn, where my hair was loosely wound downwardly to my shoulders with knots in the ends, you can say. It was a place where a filter wasn’t used to the extreme, or not at all. Maybe there was too large an opening for the coffee grounds to separate from a good, strong brew. I don’t know, just that it did me wonders on Skirt while it had its way, negatively. All in all, I guess it balanced a weight pretty equally. I just let it get to me until I discovered the g o o d in Dirty Dishes.
People like to feel inspired. They like to look at attractive pictures and read about uplifting ideas. Here, they got to view the side of me that’s not so attractive, and a smile that really isn’t pretty. They got to see, got to know, got to find out that it’s n o r m a l to feel everything at times, to be a complete mess, to be utterly imperfect. That’s not because of my words but it does seem to help us when we see the raw truth in people, good or bad. It can better ourselves inwardly, we can feel motivated and make genuine decisions to change. We can draw the positiveness out of the negativity. We can bond, relate, feel close to another person this way. We can work things out in our own lives while helping others. We’re not alone. We are never alone.
Do we mainly see what we want to see? Are we ready for change? Can we take it? Can we get through seasons that demand change in each one of us? I think so. I believe in you and me. I believe in u s. I love you without having met you, without having seen you, without having spoken a word to you or from you. How and why?-because I am the same as you in many ways. I feel all the things that another human feels-like you. I go through anger, too. I’m a sinful being, even when I’m “good”, because one of my best attributes is being f l a w e d-also like you. I don’t have to know anything about you precisely. And at the same time, we are unique individuals, the same but different, created for a purpose by God.
Let’s not let the room get drab. Let’s open the curtains, draw up the shades. Let’s raise the window with paint peeling off its wood frame. We can dust the sills tomorrow because for today, for right now, let’s let the light in. Let’s live in the light and walk together and understand each other a little better.
lit path
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