When I close my eyes I see the Eiffel Tower.
I had a vision once. Michael and I were walking Paris streets, and I could feel it. It felt like relief. Because I knew it to be a while from now, and it was nice to know we were still together and alive and all those pertinent things. And I knew that a certain amount of striving would have to be over before the vision could come true, and that was a huge relief too. Somehow we would have enough money to be there. Maybe our kids would be grown or grown-ish, because the Eiffel Tower was there and the Seine but not so much the sense of keeping little boys from swimming in it.
I don’t know why Paris exactly. I mean, it’s kind of a cliche. But I saw it, and I felt it, and I was convinced.
So now I have this office to decorate, and I’m wanting to fill it with things like that – things that feel like the end of striving or the reason for our striving or the children who require the most striving of all but who make striving feel like exactly what I was born to do. You know the less stuff / more happiness concept means the stuff you keep will all be stuff that you love. And in my decluttered life, there’s room for the Eiffel Tower.
I read that it was almost torn down once. It had outlived its permit or some such thing. And then it played a pivotal role (of observatory purposes, I believe) in the capture of an infamous spy. And now, besides the beauty of its oh so French design, when Parisian authorities asked if it was functional as well (which as we all know is the second part to the two-part survey for any item when decluttering), they could heartily answer, Oui.
It used to be getting married someday that kept me from that dutiful Christian attitude of truly wanting Jesus to return. I do want him to… I’m just concerned heaven won’t have an Eiffel Tower.
It’s just one of the things I dream. But right now, when I close my eyes I see it.
What do you see?