I hover in the midst of a sea. The sea envelops me, encompasses me. It is all I can see for miles around. My life is the sea. I am in the sea. The sea owns me.
But I want to walk on solid land again so I wade through the sea, wondering where to start. With the simplest thing. Good. With the item closest to my hand. Yes.
It’s not much. It’s not nearly enough. But it’s a start. And from that simple beginning my mind begins to clear and my vision of what I can do clears a corresponding amount. With my action of doing something, I have made the sea’s vast power over me begin to recede.
Now I see how I can start to tame this sea. How I can corral certain categories of items together and find them even if they’re not necessarily organised into neatness. I can see what I have in this group of items and it’s easier to understand that I don’t need every single item here. Some of this is flotsam and jetsam and does not belong in my life.
I know I am only working on the surface of the sea but I also understand that what meets my eyes every morning is important. As this tide ebbs it will be time to go under the surface, to the deeper levels. I will feel more comfortable about doing that once the surface sea has been cleared. I will know that I am capable. I will know that, unlike King Canute, this sea is mine to command.