La Construction d'une Cathédrale


I was cleaning house (Amazing! I know.) while the TV remained on for background noise. Usually I plug in the iPod to its docking station and groooooove while bearing the drudgery of domesticity; so, having the television on was a bit of an oddity. Somewhere in the white noise of commercial television I heard someone telling someone else it was time to rebuild their lives… and I stopped. Rebuild? I should be rebuilding. Wait. Strike that. I should be building… for the first time.

Yeah, yeah, yeah… I know. I yakkety-yak on and on about changing and making my life better. Somehow though, along the way, I convinced myself that this is it. This is all I’m ever going to get. In my attempts to face the reality of life I found it and then burrowed past it, increasing the pile of rubble underneath me, until true reality became but a notion and jaded cynicism became my reality.

I have been sitting on the rock pile of my life for years. I just sit on it. And, while it may look like rubble, even to me, these rocks are my building blocks. I may not be sitting on marble, granite, or even brick but these stones are mine. They are all I have. Sitting smugly atop the pile in triumph, as a child who has vanquished her schoolmates in a rousing game of King of the Mountain, gets me nothing but a sore ass from perching on the jagged rocks. Trust me, my ass is sore.

I halfway wish I had the luxury of rebuilding. Wouldn’t that be easier than starting from scratch? I don’t know. That’s an irrelevant pondering anyway. Twelve (almost) years of marriage and we built nothing. Forced to work, I did create a business foundation, but at home? Nothing. Occasionally I would manage to start building only to have my efforts torn down around me. We were in survival mode all the time. We existed together but alone or scrapping across the heap of rocks at our feet… one of the two. This is what happens when neither individual is ready for marriage. Our collective rock pile was far too overwhelming, I think.

That was then. Now it’s just me and my boys and this pile of rocks is my own. It’s time to build a cathedral. Not Cathédrale Notre Dame de Paris, mind you. I don’t have 150+ years to spend on construction, but I do have to be aware that this happens one stone at a time. I will wake tomorrow and much will be the same; however, I hope to look back in a year and see a wall or too… maybe a door. CAUTION: Construction Zone!

Now, where’s my hard hat?

“A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral.” ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Photo credit: Matt Andrews Photo via Flickr.

4 comments:

  1. The bones are good and the foundation sound...even though I think it's easier to just tear it all down and start anew. But the easy way isn't always the right way, is it? Life's funny about crap like that.

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  2. One stone at a time, darlin'. One stone at a time.

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  3. It's nice to hear something positive from you about your life. Go for it!

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