Suspending Time

This morning, as I walked back into my "office" for the first time since Tuesday morning, I was greeted by pristine cleanliness, which made me inexplicably anxious. You see, we've had special guests all week and one of them was sleeping on the fold out futon in my office.

In an attempt to please and comfort the guests, my infamous "stacks" were magically whisked away. To the uninformed eye, books neatly lined the bookcases and an infile held its paper contents in perfect order. Fresh flowers and the remainder of a welcome basket of snacks remain in place, a reminder of the fun we shared this week with our out of town visitors.

I am suspicious, however, of the cleanliness. I know that when I'm at my most creative, I can barely walk through the maze of books, cds, papers and brochures that wind their way around the floor of my workspace. I'm one of those visual people who needs to "see" what lies ahead in terms of projects. The stacks of books, which are now forming a double row on the book case in a semi-organized fashion, will likely be gracing the floor again by mid afternoon. The guests are departed, the party's over and it's time to get some work done!

I imagine that someday I might live a life with no stacks. In the midst of driving and laundry and practices and homework, I contemplate a future where my husband and I sit in the living room of our two bedroom condo, chatting about our grandchildren while I knit by the fire. My stacks are in the past in that picture, as I'm officially "retired" and have divested myself of anything more responsible than bingo, attending daily mass, and weekly trips to the library with long hours to read whatever I'd like. I'm not anxious to rush to that moment, but it's fun to think about sometimes. For now, I'm off to unload the books from their spots on the bookcases.