Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Enough:: Seeing it in the trash

We have the weirdest trash situation. Weirdest.

For all the right reasons, my husband wants our trash to be put out in the morning just before the recycling and trash pick up. It makes sense to me. We've had more than one identity theft experience: the checks with our old address and someone else's signature, the credit card with the gift card reload to a store I've only been in twice in my life, the stolen wallet. So, I truly understand the shredding of almost everything. I even understand not putting the cans out at night, but, I have a hard time, none the less, with getting them to the street when trash pick up day happens on our earliest day at school. 6:30 am is early enough for departure but walking cans out to the curb can be almost brutal. Especially for a boy who really wants to sleep and really wants to honor his dad's request.

A few weeks ago I, the very early riser, took to moving the cans from the other side of the backyard gate to the driveway. Easier. Participating. Honoring the one who honors.

I should say here, we've gone a few rounds on why this can't be done the night before like all the other neighbors. But there's no winning with this question. I was here when our next door neighbor's trash can, which was half way down his driveway and under our bedroom window, was set on fire at 5:00 in the morning. One of our running neighbors saw it and put it out before the winter-dry vegetation caught flame. I fully understand the rationale.

So, with that gift of submitting to one's husband's authority (oh yes, hear the groan, feel the pain, know the blessing) we just do it. He's right anyway, right?

This morning, trash day, I found myself with an extra hour. Dad was driving the early birds to school so I had time to make amazing lunches, a yummy breakfast for the teens and went out to move the cans - with a very light heart.

What I noticed was this: only one can needed to be moved.

Less trash. Very little recycling. An easy task. One can to the other side of the gate. And somehow in this morning I see enough. Enough with the arguing already. Enough with taking ground, standing ground. Enough with the consuming consumeristic mounds of consumer-driven boxes that come in the mail. Enough with the three bags full life we often lead. Less. More. A light heart. A surrendered will. A simple view. A helping hand. Some ease. Enough.


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