Why I like piles

I like piles. I am a piler. I pile everything I possibly can and then unpile the piles into other piles that are more ordered piles. I just absolutely love piles. For example, I pile the clothes I have worn on the floor. Consequently, I divide them into two piles: one pile that is deemed "clean" or at least "clean enough" and another pile deemed "not clean enough" or "downright dirty". The first pile will then relax on the floor for an indeterminate amount of time, before it joins the piles on my clothing shelves. The latter, will join the hamper and be re-piled according to color, fabric, or a purgatory know as hand-wash or dry clean only, where it will remain (in a pile of course) for eternity or until Braňo takes the initiative to get it to the dry cleaners, where I am sure it joins another pile, mingling with other people's piles.

Another example would be my papers. I love piling the class work of my students, dividing it into work to be graded, work to be filed, work to go to the trash, work to work on... piles piles piles. The piles sometimes spill a bit, as papers are wont to do. My students will confirm that I even pile during classes, having a temporary table full of papers, organized into attendance sheets, work to hand out, work to hand in, work that shouldn't be there at all... piles piles piles.

Further, I pile while I am cooking. Instead of using the trash, which is one meter away, I make piles of discarded onion skins, cans, and potato peels. I pile up the ingredients onto cutting boards and pile up the dirty dishes. I pile. I am a piler. A veritable mountain of piling.

Some might consider this a lazy persons approach to organization. We all know that person, with a desk piled high with piles of piled papers, who can astonishingly pull out the exact document upon request. This is ordered chaos. This is the brilliance of a good piler. I can do this. Go ahead, try me, ask me to find something. It is the way the brain works, ordered into piles. I imagine, if you could look inside my brain, there would be piles. Piles of memories, piles of feelings, piles of facts (small ones)... piles, piles, piles, cumulus and grand. Some people might have filing cabinets; I have piles.

So, why do I like piles and the process of piling and re-piling? I think it is in part a result of a certain amount of laziness, but also indicative of my habitual approach to true order. I like the process of piling, movement and progress. My life is akin to a pile. I piled in the US, now I pile here. I piled in Missouri as a university student and pile in the states, helping my dad make pottery. I pile up friends and pile up family. I will eventually create piles of posts on this blog and piles of unwritten potential. There will be piles as there will be a future. And the pile itself knows unbounded possiblity, as a pile is always a pile it can grow, it can dwindle, it is constantly in flux. Ahhhh. The pile.