Choices.

A person’s life is made up, decorated, by the choices they’ve made.  If nothing is ever decided or risked the canvas remains blank, but for the few brush strokes made by childhood.

Some adults have lives that are blank canvases, very few choices made, risks taken.  I understand the fear in making choices, but I’m a little sad for those people.

I think most of us are cluttered collages of choice.  But that’s not an easy life. Collages need to be maintained.  Choices made bring with them complications and responsibility, but also color and texture.

We’re having the inside of our house painted this week.  So everything had to come off the walls.  All of our pictures, artwork, shelves, all of it.  The walls of our house are blank, barren and my office, which is usually a collection of…well just everything, is empty.  Blank walls.

It’s interesting because as I was taking things down I was wondering if I should mark or remember where everything was so I could put it back once the painting was finished.

I decided not too.  I decided I may choose differently and want to put things in different places.

Over the past 5 years I’ve put things up in my office, made choices, that have brought my space to where it was on Friday.  Once the slate is wiped clean and the new paint is done, I may put things in different places.

At first I was reluctant to take everything down, but I’m kind of excited to start with a blank space and choose again.  Life’s not quite so easy.

Choices are more permanent in life, but they still should be made.  Sitting with a blank canvas is no fun.  But paint is messy, especially if you choose a vibrant color.  So hard to paint over and start again.

I may end up putting things in the same place in my office, but I’ll enjoy the choices again.

My thoughts from the laundry room.  Pick a side.

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