When I'm confused, or sad, or uncertain I clean. People think I'm messy but in reality I'm just very rarely confused, sad or uncertain (or at least that's how I like to think of it). Cleaning is my way of handling things when I can't really pinpoint exactly what is bothering me and so in an effort to de-clutter my mind and discover the truth I de-clutter a room, drawer, closet, cabinet, etc. hoping that there will be a correlated enlightenment. I have a hard time throwing things a way which a psychoanalyst would probably tell me is related to an inability to get over things or a tendency to hold a grudge. This however, would be incorrect, I'm really very forgiving, I get over things really quickly....it does make me wonder sometimes though if like the things in my room I won't throw away if I just place issues inside a box, push them to the back of the closet of my mind and hope that they will remain comfortably hidden forever and magically dissipate into the dark.
Writing comes when I'm a little more certain of exactly what is bothering me. This doesn't mean I write about the situation, in fact it is rare that I do so. Instead I write about vague issues of the human condition, of how I deal with things, I write stories about frustrated 20 something year olds, I write poetry, and when its really bad I write a facebook note and then judge myself for it later.
Dancing is one that was lost when I went to college. For 14 years I danced and it was my way of release. It was the way I dealt when I was upset. Now, not having danced regularly in years its this vague memory of feeling peace and exuberance and frustration in one singular moment. Dancing has this interesting capacity to be compared to just about anything because of all it encapsulates. It is like life but it is also a brazen symbol of our mortality.
Running is always the one that frightens me the most. I run even when I'm not upset as well as when I am but there is something about running that brings everything to the surface. I can never cry when I run. There are so many times when I want to break down and just sit and sob on the side of the road...it never happens because my sweat seems to claim all of the moisture and precipitation my lacrimal glands would require to tear up. There is also this concept of not being truly able to stop. I can slow down, I can even pause, but when I run I like to run in the country and one cannot just stop on the side of a hill and expect to ever arrive at your destination.
So here I am, I am sitting in my bedroom, writing, in the midst of a massive cleaning spree, with my running shorts on, and an almost insuppressible desire to drive to my school to the giant empty dance studio in the gym and put on a pair of pointe shoes and just go at it. I think my real reason for using all of these methods to bring clarity is that each one makes me feel closer to God in a different way.
Cleaning--The old adage "cleanliness is next to godliness" isn't lost on me. I have always felt that cleaning is my humanistic rendering and poor interpretation of what God does when I let Him. My Mom regularly tells me that if I would just let her come in and "clean house" (which essentially means throwing away all of my clutter) I would never miss any of it. I always refuse saying that I might need it someday. I think God asks me that same question every day and typically I politely refuse or allow Him to clean a small "Lyndsey approved" portion.
Writing--When I write I can be the most naked and the most covered at the same time. You can write yourself into a veiled and shrouded uncertainty but you can also write yourself into the Light. Writing is both painful and therapeutic. I think this is what I love about writing: its duality. If I could no longer be a noun: Lyndsey and I had to be a verb I think I would want to be the verb: Writing.
Dancing--Nothing makes me closer to God than dancing. For some reason I always feel as though He is watching when I dance, like He finds some secret joy in watching me do something with passion. I think He looks at life like a dance.
Running--Because I typically run out doors there is this natural draw to the world surrounding me and an awe for its Creator but there is also something in the actual act of running. Something in the way your body gets a second wind after you've run a mile or so and have felt the cramping and exhaustion. Its so fascinating that our bodies can do this: that we can get better at something, that we can feel refreshing when a moment before we thought we were going to have to stop. There is this necessity to go on that I mentioned before. We must keep moving, keep running and pray for the second wind to come swiftly.
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