when we moved into this house 30 years ago the kitchen floor was an old green and orange linoleum. needless to say, this was not my favorite color combination nor was it my favorite floor. we laid a clean white tile floor on top; a temporary fix to hold us over. a couple years later we chose to put hardwood down, mimicking the rest of the house. that required stripping off the old floors – the white one and the green and orange one. weren’t we surprised at how many layers we found! but below all that mess was the sub-flooring, a solid foundation on which to lay new hardwood, a new start for the little kitchen.
peeling back the layers to expose what’s beneath it all can be exhilarating. but it can also be intimidatingly revealing. we are nervous to find what is below the surface. we feel trepidation about the underlayment; should we rip out and replace? what will we need to do to shore it up? can it withstand this?
it’s the same for each of us. we feel vulnerable letting others know what is underneath it all, this positive front of ours. the complexity of sedimentary-life-layers is confusing and we seek ways to not feel them, not acknowledge them, not share them.
but the firm subfloor is there. we are resilient and fluid. we have been shored up by the obstacles we have climbed, by the challenges we have surmounted and we are surrounded by others who all can relate, were we to tell them.
the orange and green linoleum of our lives is still there, underneath, but it is now serving us, either as the underlayment of our ever-learning-ever-growing-future or part of what we found, dealt with, ripped out and replaced. either way, there is room for the hardwood. the foundation is solid.
©️ 2019 david robinson