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Standing in the shower one morning this week, I started to blow my nose. You know, plug one nostril to generate more revolutions per second through the other one.
Out the white snot flowed. A clump the look and size of a Cauliflower thingy.
Wow, that was big.
But there’s more. Still sniffling, blockage. More revving up the nose speed machine.
Another huge hunk.
Wow, that’s big, I thought.
Am I done?
No.
More.
And more.
And more.
When will this end?
What else will come out? My intestines? My spleen? My kidneys? The kitchen sink?
I began to think everything was going to be coming out of my nose. All matter. All my misgivings. All my regrets. All my sins. All my old bosses. All my chest hair. All my hangovers.
Junk. Trash. Bicycle parts. My garage door opener.
All pouring out of my nose, a holistic physical, spiritual and psychological cleansing.
This got me thinking about purging. We love to blow things out of our system, get rid of things, throw them out, drive to the town dump and heave our crap into some gross dumpster crammed with seedy queen-size mattresses, all stained.
Why does it feel so good to get rid of things? Why does clutter bother us so?
I don’t know.
Gotta blow.
And blow.
Another hunk.
More junk.
Shower over.
Feeling crude.
Still nude.
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Sammy Sportface, a sports blogger, galvanizes, inspires, and amuses The Baby Boomer Brotherhood. And you can learn about his vision and join this group's Facebook page here:
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