200 Chairs was almost Live Love Laugh Lasagna; it was a close call. I was eating lasagna on New Year’s Eve eve (leftover from Christmas actually) and I was considering what I wanted to do to unleash my deep desire to be creative in 2024. Being pretty “left brained,” creativity is what allows me to breathe. It came down to write a novel or start a blog, neither of which I actually have time for but blogging seemed to be more feasible than undertaking a novel. And, with a blog, I can write like I speak: passionately, fragmented, sometimes intelligently, often rambling and frequently wandering off in ten different directions. Who knows? Maybe 2025 will be the novel?
Being a naturally pretty indecisive person, deciding on a name (or a theme) for a blog required a good deal of focus, which I could not commit to. Remember the lasagna…? A friend once told me that the best writers write “what they know.” This very idea leads me down a path I am desperately trying to avoid here: losing focus. To keep myself accountable, I will try to admit to my shortcomings when they happen. You, the reader, will never know that I just wrote three paragraphs touching on Stephen King and Colleen Hoover and what they “know” and then, because I was clearly doing exactly what I am trying so hard not to do (wander off the path), I deleted the three paragraphs. What do I know? I know I have 200 chairs that I am desperate to get rid of.
So, here we are, almost back at the beginning which is the perfect place to begin.
Why 200 Chairs? Everyone has “baggage,” they need to unload. Some of us have baggage that is less metaphorical and more quantitative and sometimes the baggage is both. I literally have 200 chairs; I wish I were exaggerating. Where the chairs came from is a story for another day; because it’s a story I am tired of telling and I need to take a break from it.
To someone who appreciates anything old, these chairs are somewhat of an exciting collection– old, mismatched and unique. Some date back to the 1800’s; it is remarkable to look at anything and realize that it has existed for 100 years or more. If you are like me, you think “If only this [chair] could talk.” I wish that I could feel excitement over the chairs but I don’t. Instead, when I look at the chairs I feel sadness, anger, anxiety and grief. My feelings are so “all encompassing” that I can no longer appreciate the incredible craftsmanship, the quality of the wood, or anything else about them. Instead, staring at the chairs in the cold, dark warehouse where they currently are somewhat organized, I waffle between wanting to scream and wanting to cry. The chairs are my baggage and until very recently, they were buried deep within the walls of a barn or a warehouse. There are days I wish the chairs were still buried so that I wouldn’t have to look at them or think about them. Anyone with baggage knows how hard unloading it is. But the more emotionally intelligent part of me knows that digging them out and getting rid of them is exactly what I need to do so that I can begin to breathe again so that’s what I am going to do. But hold on. Let me be clear that unpacking emotional baggage (or 200 chairs in my case) will also come with sarcasm, cheeky responses, wit and dry humor. It will come with walks down paths leading in the wrong direction, strong opinions, eye rolls and a lot of head-shaking. 200 Chairs will not be for anyone who likes to complain or is easily offended. If you’ve made it this far, well then take a seat. Literally. Thank you, that will be $10.
200 Chairs 