The fridge seems to be my habitual place to pause in my house as an “um” or “like” fills in the spaces of a sentence. I go there when I’m starving and I visit it when I’m bored. I don’t think I’m alone in this custom. Today, the afternoon slump swept over me, pressing on my eyelids and lulling me to sleep. I had a few more hours of work to conquer so naturally, I made my way to the fridge for a pep talk. I swung the large stainless steel doors open and shuffled my hand through the cheese drawer. I rummaged as if some snack would magically appear even though I knew the boring contents that dwelled within.
As my hopeful hands searched, a smell grazed my nostrils. My lips pursed. What was that? It didn’t smack me immediately the way a loosely-closed styrofoam leftovers box might. This smell was mysterious and growing as I stood in the cold space of the open doors. I feel obligated to add a disclaimer that I’m generally a tidy person. My counters are usually free of clutter, every item tucked into its designated home and I try my best to keep up with the dog hair, but that’s an endless task that will never receive a gold star on the chore chart.
So, the smell. It was there, and it wasn’t good. My eyes skimmed the containers; zucchini, sweet potatoes and a couple tubs of cream cheese. My fridge is actually pretty pitiful and could use an assistant. I glanced at the stamped dates on the almond milk; all good. My brief investigation provided no leads. It bothered me every time I opened the fridge throughout the day. I couldn’t get to the bottom of the stench.
Do you ever wake up or leave an outing with a friend or coworker and slowly sense something doesn’t smell right? As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned that those feelings or signals are worth minding. At first, it’s just that feeling that something is off; something’s not quite right. The absolute closest friends in my life are those who I spend time with and when I leave their company I feel empowered, enlightened and genuinely joyful about who I am and who I’m becoming. I’m not chalking this up to hanging around friends who compliment a hairstyle, outfit or call me sweetie. Sure, most my friends spew words of encouragement, because well, that’s just who they are! This is a trait in which I can’t quite find the pulse.
On the other hand, I’ve grown to recognize that subtle smell of a feeling that I get in my stomach after a phone call with someone who manages to completely suck the life out of me when I didn’t properly prepare my emotions. I hang up, look around the room and wonder, what’s this feeling I’m having and how can I detect the container and toss it in the trash. It happens with places, shows, and maybe even songs. Personally, I know locations that I refuse to frequent because they leave me feeling hollow. Now, I’m not talking about cutting all the toxic people out of my life and being around “good vibes only.” Sorry, those phrases make me queezier than an expired carton of milk.
I’m not meant to only be around people who build me up and make me feel good. I know I have a purpose to do the same for someone who may be incapable of offering anything in return. This is truly an intuition I can’t label, and I won’t even try. Although, maybe a few labels on leftover tubs wouldn’t hurt, regardless, I think it’s curious to learn to notice the feeling and recognize the source.
For me, it’s certain relationships I know I must mentally and spiritually prepare to be equipped to walk in. It’s certain tv shows that I just can’t watch. Sadly, I had to let go the world-acclaimed Married at First Sight. I don’t know why that show messed with me, but it weaved through my dreams and at the end of each binged string of episodes, I sat on the couch hating myself. Sometimes it’s just a certain phrase or way of speaking that strikes me and makes me cringe. For instance, when someone describes a struggle or personal issue with the phrase “we” as if I’m stuck in the hole with them. What if I just so happened to have overcome that issue years ago? Don’t bring me back down there!
We’re called to guard our hearts. Maybe some of my trigger points are purely issues that I need to get over and cleanse myself of bitterness or impatience; that’s likely, but many scenarios could be warnings and a hint to turn on my discernment and guard myself.
You may think you keep a clean house, but when that smell grows in your fridge, the toughest part of mitigation is detecting the source.
