Drifting in Peace | Catherine Viel

By Catherine Viel, April 23, 2022

(Golden Age of Gaia)

April 22, 2022

In the never-ending battle between order and chaos, clutter sides with chaos every time. Anything that you possess that does not add to your life or your happiness eventually becomes a burden. ~ John Robbins



I sometimes wonder if the elites realize they just have too much stuff.

Perhaps they are no more cognizant of their excess of yachts and palatial estates than I am of the duplicate tools in my garage and the handful of needle packets in my sewing kit. I can’t use more than one needle at a time, and they typically don’t break. Why do I need fifty of them?

I’d like to think that, having grown up in a milieu of extravagance, the uber-wealthy can’t help being oblivious. It’s certainly a kinder way to look at them than the outraged incredulity I feel if I contemplate their truly excessive ownership of the world’s resources.

*****



Excess is all around me, and it has no relationship to abundance. I live in the land of overkill, Montecito and its mansions (and Oprah and her ilk) a few miles down the 101, Hollywood and Beverly Hills and Rodeo Drive 90-some miles south of that.

I’m thinking of this because I’m noticing duplicates and excess in the hidden corners of my much humbler abode. The garage, specifically, that bugaboo of suburbia where cars seldom dwell and forgotten toys and projects linger until they begin to moulder from humidity and neglect.

I seldom actually look at what’s out there. Until I can’t stand the visual clutter and seek ways to tone it down. That’s why it just registered on my mental radar that I have five handsaws.



I’m not sure I’ve ever used a handsaw. I don’t now have the arm strength, and I’ve never had the skill, to use such a tool safely and successfully.

So these saws are hanging from nails in the dark corner above the workbench, why? Waiting for some phantom handyman to come and make use of them? I didn’t buy them. They came originally from my father‘s workshop and date from the 1960s.

While I’ve gotten rid of most everything I don’t really need or want, some items are imbued with the magic of nostalgia and I am loathe to release them out into the world.

Perhaps the elites aren’t so different. I can imagine the jewels and the sterling and the vintage automobiles dutifully cared for by paid servants over the decades. Hard to let such meaningful family heirlooms go, even if never used.

*****



There are many versions of overkill. I suspect they stem from some type of fear—fear of lack, fear of running out. Or they’re simply a shield to protect us from the unknown or not well understood dangers that appear to surround us. The more I have, the safer I am.

Yesterday I was reminded of how fear can push us to extremes of absurdity when I noticed a woman wearing a mask at the grocery store. Not unusual. But then I noticed she was wearing a full-on medical-type face shield. Then I noticed she was also wearing disposable gloves.



She was also bagging her enormous amount of groceries herself, possibly because she didn’t wish the store employees to handle them any more than necessary. I imagined her methodically unpacking them in her kitchen and wiping items down with disinfectant before stashing them in her overfilled cupboards.

I kept glancing at her while I made my purchases. She didn’t look insane. I noticed other people giving her sidelong looks as well.

It was as if she were acting from an old script, while we, the other players, have moved on with our new lines, enacting the drama of the future.

*****



And as for me…what shall I do with those five vintage saws?

None are intrinsically valuable, especially not to me when I can’t use them. One has a mellow golden oak handle and is probably the oldest, the most valuable in terms of memories, real or imagined, of my dad in his train engineer–like coveralls, bald head gleaming in the fluorescent shop light, black-framed glasses on his aristocratic Roman nose, long artists’ fingers aligning a pine board just so in the heavy workbench clamp.

I still can’t use the saws. Why keep any of them?

I think this, like so much that feels nebulous and uncertain, is a question for another day. My TUT message today was,

Confusion, indecision, and uncertainty, Catherine, often mean that if you wait a little longer before deciding, an even better option will emerge, with such clarity it may bite you on the nose and sweep you off your feet.

The nice kind of bite.

I’d say wait a little longer, The Universe (1)

Okay, Universe, I’ll listen. It won’t hurt me to wait on this, and on most other things that have zero true urgency.

I may be drifting along, but I’m drifting in peace. And I’ll take that any day, over a harried decision that could turn out to be the worst choice I made that day. Thanks, Universe!



(1) The Universe Talks, https://www.tut.com