honeybuckets, filling up and spilling over -- the fine art of looking at your shit -

Before I returned to this go 'round of therapy, I pretty much thought I had my shit together. I now kow that I thought I had my shit together, but that my shit is complicated, and that sometimes you need to unpack the entire suitcase (shitcase?), then repack it. So I'm in the process of pulling my shit out, not getting it together. I think I need to revel in the vigor of the process, the liberation, and know that some shit may not return to Ye Olde Honeybucket of My Life, and some shit will, renewed, revitalized, flower-like. One thing's for sure: I'll always have room for an introspective self-portrait...