I’ve loved rearranging furniture since I was a kid. I would disappear into my room for the time it took to complete the process, usually most of a day. I’d push the bed against a different wall, swap the desk and the book shelf, roll up the rug and unroll it again. Coming through the chaos—furniture piling up, posters and books littering the floor, and dolls and stuffed animals everywhere—to the resulting altered arrangement tended to a restlessness in me. I relished the refresh, it brought peace.
Still does. I move the furniture, and the stuff on the walls, frequently. I get rid of stuff. It’s a practice of shifting energy, against stagnation.
I wonder if (hope that) this rearranging is rehearsal for the urgent spiritual, cultural and ecological renovation we are all faced with now.
With our participation, love rearranges us. Take that off the wall. Bring that shit out to the curb. The dresser can’t be over there anymore because it’s blocking the window. You’re blocking your light.