Matryoshka

We start and end our lives in containers. From the womb to the casket or urn we are encapsulated. We are also obsessed with containers as symbols of protection, generation and identity. We even have stores that contain – you guessed it-containers. As I cleaned the garage the other day in social isolation, I found a bag of bags and a box of boxes. A good metaphor for life is the Russian nesting doll. People inside of people.

Our language is all about what lies within. We want the ” inside scoop;” we dive deep into a subject and unpack our neuroses. At the most basic level, we, “feather our nests” and decline to put all of our eggs in one basket. This need to control, contain and ensconce seems fundamental to our nature and as Mark Twain pointed out, ” there is a lot of human nature in people.”

As I waded through the junk I had in storage it became clear that containerizing is a manifestation of the need for a kind of shelter. My bags, boxes, tubs, sleeves and Tupperware were there as a defense against chaos. Our fear of the oceanic nature of our lives motivate us to build fortresses and those fortresses are where we feel safe. On the bright side, treasures are more powerful in chests and good things do often come in small packages. The absurdity of owning over a hundred baseballs and a bag of bats is not lost on me but they are very neatly stored. I have limited shelf space and no room for racists, demagogues, exclusionists or folks of that ilk. They will not fit into my storage plan.

I hope someday to find the smallest doll that is contained in the matryoshka. That will be the moment of truth. Until that time I need to find a way to store the CDs that are scattered about my messy garage.