Those dang loose ends. We tend to forget them, like fringe on the hem of our pants. We just drag them along, like they don’t even, never did, exist.

We don’t need to worry about every little thing, anyhow (click to Tweet). Little loose ends should be the least of our worries. Looking over our shoulder, when all that OTHER junk is looming on the horizon….that’s how you run into stuff!

I suspect loose ends have a lot more impact than we care to admit. I’ve suspected it for some time now.

Load of baggage

It’s all that hocus-pocus, voodoo, “the Universe says” sort of thing, you know? It’s a close cousin of the clean up the clutter to make room for new possibilities, self-help, kind of ‘er “crap.” Loose ends, I suspect, are the kind of fray that can silently KILL you! Think about this when you’re not thinking about it:

Loose ends are like our shadow selves –  pieces of a shrugged-off obligation. Like raggedy pant hems they go through the wet streets in winter, they drag through the mud of spring, they sit in the closet all summer long and finally, we yank them into the light again and, like mushrooms, they’ve grown in the dark, taking on a life of their own.

Loose endsSo, it’s time for me to clean it up. That’s right! I’m rolling up my sleeves, breaking out the scissors and trimming up those ravelly ends, before my life ends up in tatters. I suggest you do the same.

For years I’ve had an unfinished project in the mosaic studio. It’s sat unattended, like something from a Stephen King novel, watching from the shadows, silently whispering, “why don’t you finish me?” Well, I don’t really know. But, I do reckon you’re probably clogging up my abundant energy exchange. You’re probably so pissed at this point that you’re cursing me from the dark corner. Truth be told, I’ve avoided you the last 8 months because you scare the bejeezus out of me!

That’s not all…there’s another piece I’ve avoided, because I’m not sure about the vision of it. Again, a commitment that I’ve allowed myself to dodge, dragging my shabby shoes over, shuffling through the war-torn fields of my life’s forgotten promises.

Don’t judge me!

The last few months have felt like a little something is out of place. It’s not really bad…but it ain’t quite right. I’ve asked for guidance, I’ve sought answers. Maybe it wouldn’t bother someone who takes their commitments more lightly, but the guilt, oh the guilt of the unanswered promise, the shredded, ragged, misery of the loose ends. BAH!!!!

SO, before the next blog post that mosaic will be finished. Loose ends are the fibers that weave ragrets – intentional misspelling…no letters, puleeze. (click to Tweet)

Got a confession? Sure you do! Leave it below and we can do our penance together.

Off to Be a Grown Up,

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Writer, Artist, CoachMichelle Andres is a writer and artist. She confesses every Friday and falls on the sword for all of us. Please, let’s laugh at ourselves together as we cultivate well lived lives. 

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