The Urge to Rearrange

re ar range:

move (something) into a more acceptable position or state.

It was another thorn in the growing reality of my differentness. My mom would drowsily fumble into our room at 6:30 in the morning, to wake me and my younger brother, only to find it unlike the night before. Who did this, she’d ask between her pestering demands for us to get up. I’d taken it upon myself, in the middle of the night, to rearrange our bedroom. These arrangements were never premeditated, they were a call and response to a restless spirit as I’d lay there in bed—the shifting of items in my room, I found, was the antidote. My mom, I was convinced, was less puzzled by the fact that a skin and bones second grader could do this by theirself, and more at odds with why, why did it have to be done in the middle of the night?

I started with the biggest and most challenging item: the bunk bed. Then, I’d shift my desk with the old, bulky HP computer —reflexively ensuring the globe and Nickelodeon alarm clock that sat on top didn’t topple over. The dresser, no longer satisfied in its place near the window facing the unruly woods, would have to be moved too. My hamster, affectionately named Jigga (after Jay-Z), would scramble, panicked by my clumsy attempts to drag the dresser across the carpeted floor, on which sat his cage. My thoughts would leave what I was doing to entertain the mystery of how my little brother could sleep through all of this, peacefully tucked away under the covers of the bottom bunk. I envied, even then, what his lack of sensitivity kept him from being disturbed by, freed from being responsible to.

I’d stand in the center of our room, admiring the changes I had made. There was always a settledness I’d find in my gut, that granted me permission to climb back onto that top bunk, finally, to sleep.

Welcoming fall,

That same feeling, the culmination of restlessness coupled with an inspired evoking, has been steadily growing within me over the last few months. It wasn’t until the fall equinox that I was able to pinpoint what it was: a call to rearrange, a nudge to reassemble my life.

Fall has this way of initiating, not only in nature, but within us, a primitive inclination to purge, to shed, to slow down and look closer. Traditionally, we have associated this season with language such as letting go, surrender, and change. I am not saying those descriptors are no longer true or applicable, because at the heart of what I am saying is they are—but, perhaps, its more refreshing and relevant to think of this moment as a time, urge, and instinct to (gently) rearrange parts of your life. This could manifest as a physical need to shift around tangible objects, but it could just as well be manifested in how you approach your finances, how you are showing up in certain relationships, the need to shift off certain activities and begin committing yourself more intentionally to others.

and once you’re done, once you are settled with the things you have rearranged, look up at the stars: what do you now see?

I never had to touch the glow in the dark stars that were glued to the ceiling. By nature of my rearranging the room, when I laid on the top bunk that night, I enjoyed a new constellation of the stars. Those stars transformed a bedroom in a trailer shared with my youngest brother into a reimagined world. Those stars inspired me to engage my dreams, to think about what life would be like if and when. They challenged me to consider a time when my differentness would become the thorn that would evoke my power. In this world, it didn’t matter what my size, gender, or weaknesses were, I always had the power I needed to make the necessary changes in my life that would serve me well, that were in alignment with my most authentic self. Those stars were an invitation to see more, to be more. And by rearranging my room, I got to see a new view of this world, of me. I’m grateful for and to those stars, to the ones that are still guiding me, even now.

Get quiet. Take a day (or two) to get a way. Be intentional about planning time to be alone so that you can just listen. As you do so, you’ll become clear about what parts of your life you too have the instinct to rearrange. As you rearrange your life, know that it is giving you access to see something new about your world, about you.

Tis the season to rearrange,

Dr. Darrien Jamar 🖤