On my way here I was thinking about what I'd like to write about, thoughts I never get to put on paper and so become vaporous wisps that float away before I get to really examine them.
I thought about what the meaning of a "mid-life crisis" really is. Is each "crisis" an individual affair or are they more general like something that can be described in a wikipedia entry?
I thought about a line in a pop song I heard the other day, something about sitting facing backwards on a train. The lyrics seemed so simple, yet so philosophical, as if the singer was reflecting on the past while moving forward.
And now, I'm stuck a little wondering how to incorporate this prompt about closets, enclosures of things past, holders of memories, maybe secrets, definitely of items once deemed important enough to preserve.
We have three cats in one closet. None of them liked each other when they were alive, yet here they are together, huddled on a shelf. They're in little wooden boxes that we've meant to bury in the yard for years. In this closet there's also a retractable screen door we've never installed and a window made of three glass cubes, also never unpacked, along with a toolbox, spare random hardware and a jumble of containers I haven't opened in so many years I have no idea what they contain. Needless to say, I avoid opening that closet unless I'm in need of a nail or eyelet hook or tool of some sort. I'm relieved to admit that's probably the most heinous of our closets, but as I write this, I am imagining the others, none of which I would characterize as empty.
Is it possible that an antidote for a midlife crisis could include the purging of a closet? The cats would certainly appreciate being liberated to separate but equal corners of the yard. If anyone here knows someone who could use a screen door or a glass cube window, I am all ears. Just thinking about shedding these few things makes me feel that much more free, more light and out of the closet.
