the door to a new room

A week or so ago, that converter box that got hooked up to the TV at the transition to digital times burned itself out of commission. It still had power, but no longer function. What I am left with is more silence. No TV for days, not even a moment to check the forecast. It has been a respite from news, from noise. It has been about 9 months since my last intentional media break. It has been about that long since my relationship of 13?-plus years took a break, or ended, when I asked him to move out. Yes, he still has a key. Yes, he lives around the block and is still here often. But we have been platonic, and living separate lives, with just an occasional shared meal or walk, like old friends do. We check in on one another and try to be encouraging. We listen and let the other dump complaints of the day to a degree. But when it is not serving us, we just stop and take a break.

I know how much I have used that box to drown out the silence that can push me to look inside, at my true mirror. But this tangible lack of noise was a very loud reminder of the squandering of precious moments. I have been scared. This change in relationship has brought up the "who am I?" without focus on a partner question. There have been very few windows for this inquiry in my life. I have kept the dance card busy.

I have enjoyed this additional room in my house, the space not filled with sound and picture. I got some things done, whittled down some accumulating stacks of information. Some I did not even feign to read, just moved them out. It was my intention 9 months ago, when this space became mine alone again, to clear and reset the whole apartment, to prove that it was just mine now. But that, too, is a task I have always shied away from. What is my living space like if I am not sharing it? What do I want it to be? Thusfar, it has just been in limbo, though a new rug came in and a few unused items have been donated. But it is still essentially the same as when it was "our" space. I am sensing some energy to shift that.

This morning, on the road, scanning the radio dial, I passed a religious radio station with a snippet that stuck for the day. Basically, the voice-over pointed out that when one has company coming, one cleans house at a whole new level than allowing the day to day accumulated mess. So he posed the query: "How would you clean house if Jesus were coming to visit?" I generally think instead about how my behavior would vary if I were always being watched, but the message is the same, and it's useful for today. (The wavy line of spellchecking has underlined behavior...)