Sunday, November 21, 2010

Surfboards and a Recycle Bucket



This is the Hawaiian Shaka, also known as the hang loose sign.  The last number of months has been fairly trying (what with surgeries, chronic illness, and automotive woes) and I finally came to the point where I realized I ought to be riding the waves as each one rolled into my life rather than fighting them.  It made sense since I was powerless to hold them back.  Lifeguards will also tell you that when caught in certain dangerous currents a victim should just relax and float parallel to the shore rather than try to fight the current.  I was very much trying to put that into practice.  I realized waiting for life to return to normal, whatever that is, before I could regain some calm was not going to serve me very well.  I'd just drive myself nuts. I was just going to hang loose and take the waves as they came, just ride them into shore.  I hasten to add, this is an aspiration more than a statement of having attained such a level of peace and dwelling therein.

Well, as you know, last week was another especially trying one.  The weekend was riven with adolescent strife following closely on the heels of the midnight ER call and the collision with a deer and all the attendant lack of sleep....oh, and then there was even more automotive fun I won't even bother telling you about and the joy of opening a medical claim with my car insurance.  I just was in no mood for cranky, demanding, entitled teenage drama.  It pushed me over the edge.  I was done with riding the waves.  I embraced my Greek side and decided the most therapeutic activity would be to empty the recycle bucket of all glass and dash it on the floor of the garage.  It felt good.  I had reconciled myself to the cleanup before I began the demolition.  That had its own restorative zen aspect.  If you don't have a surfboard I'd highly recommend a bucket of glass jars, a cement floor, and a broom when life just won't let up.


20 comments:

San said...

I'm going to keep this recommendation handy, Michele. Now to stock up on glass jars...I already have the cement floor.

I hope that life gets better for you and that the adrenals get a break.

Dianne said...

the glass is from the beach's sand, the waves reached as far as your garage!
Di

snowelf said...

That is a fan-freakin-tastic way to therapy yourself.
And yes, I totally used therapy as a verb.
Go gerunds! :)

--snow

Cricket said...

That is brilliant. You are made of awesome.

Craig said...

Hmmmmm. . . Interesting therapeutic technique.

See, and here I was gonna tell you about how, in cycling, there's a way to just relax into a rhythm and flow on the bike, and you end up going faster, and longer, than if you just grit your teeth and work harder.

But hey - if bustin' shit works for you, who am I to naysay?

;)

Hilary said...

I'm so going to remember this. I'm glad it helped some.

G-Man said...

Wait Wait Wait....!!!!!
That was a bag of Priceless Antique Soda Bottles!!!!!!!!!!!!

Beach Bum said...

You've already read my new post and how close I came to hitting a buck myself Saturday morning. Got to admit you and your recent encounter was the first thing I thought of as I sat stalled on the interstate and realized I didn't have a semi on the verge of knocking me into the great beyond.

I was seriously scared as I slammed on brakes. Damn deer kept acting like it was going to step into the next lane and with the wire barriers they have strung up between the lanes down here its really a toss up as to which is best of the two bad situations. Hit the deep or go into the barrier and flip the car.

S said...

Did you
have
safety glasses?


I hope it felt great.

Cocotte said...

Hope your Thanksgiving is a peaceful one.

haphazardlife said...

Damn, at this point that SO sounds like a plan. Hope things calm down soon.

- jazz

Craig said...

@ G-Man -

Not any more!!!

;)

-----

WordVer = 'unsin'. . .

if only. . .

Mother Theresa said...

Oh Lime, sorry to hear things are so rough lately, but I'm glad you found at least a tiny bit of release by dumping that bucket. You can't always hang loose, that's easier said than done. I hope things start getting better soon.

coopernicus said...

I don't know the psychology behind it, but most guys I know (myself included) find some sort of bizarre release in this sort of activity.

KFarmer said...

I threw old plates in the kitchen fireplace.... My oh my how nicely they smashed into bits and the lovely sound as they exploded! I highly recommend this activity : )

Moannie said...

Oh I do applaud you. See, I couldn't do that...my sensible side would have wieghed up the theraputic against the mess and probable injuries, and would have screamed instead. What a wus!

Sorry to read about all the bad luck, and can only wish you able to Shaka in Shakaland. X

Sarah said...

There is a place in Cali that rents out space for you to throw things and smash them on the wall.

It's a great release.

<3 you

Eric Alder said...

Catharsis via a physical version of Primal Scream theary - I dig it!

I'm reminded of how the local (Toledo area) late-night horror movie host "The Ghoul" used to sign-off: "Scratch glass, turn blue, but don't get busted!"

(M)ary said...

I can imagine a few cuss words being said as the glass flew.

secret agent woman said...

I've tried this, but inevitably some glass shards remain and I cut my foot. :-(