Right? It kind of goes back to my Mythblast about leaky transcendence. It leaks into immanence in all sorts of unexpected places…. including attics.
But I think that’s a great way to illustrate both how the weird little treasurers emerge. For example, while digging through the basement I discovered boxes I hadn’t opened since THE LAST TIME I MOVED which was, like, 20 years ago (!). Gasp. Fortunately they were happy finds — some journals I’d kept when living overseas at the end of the 90s. That was fun.
However, if we’re talking about the attics of our psyche’s sometimes rooting around in there doesn’t turn up bits of gold, but those venomous toads that have been slowly poisoning pieces of our lives for years and years without having been discovered — the mundane can be hiding that stuff as well. All of which might be a reason why we avoid looking for the transcendent in the everyday — it might not be gold we’ll find at the end of that rainbow, but icky mud.
Whew… that was a rapid change in metaphors.
And this kind of goes to my point that maybe boredom can be understood as a protective device — a way that the ego can wrap itself in the mundane to keep the anxieties of self-discovery at bay? That’s one of my working hypotheses. What do you think? Do people take refuge in the mundane to avoid the extraordinary?
Back to my floorboard metaphor: you never know for sure what you might find under there. ;^)