This last week has been spent sorting, packing, remembering, and tossing as I prepare to move myself and my son to Dallas. It was a difficult decision to make but after turning 70 I found myself taking inventory of things I normally ignore…like my health. And I found myself lacking. So, the decision was made, and the process began.
The inventory I did not expect to reveal spiritual truths to me was the actual act of putting all I have acquired over those 70 years into boxes. I am no different than anyone else when it comes to acquiring “things”. Most of us are simply not conscious of how much we own and if we are, it is in a vague sense of acquisition that we face only when it is time to clean out that closet or redo the guest bedroom where untold treasures of our past have come to rest.
We hold on to things because somehow, we find comfort in them. We believe they are a part of us ; our combined history as a family or a company or a community. We think subconsciously that they will leave an empty space if we no longer have them. And it is true that it feels good to acquire these things and we might get a little rush of memory when we stumble across them.
So I have been quite surprised to experience the release that comes with letting go of a box with doorknobs from my first college apartment, a play I directed in 1971, napkins from my first wedding reception (Yikes) and as I plowed through these things I realized there is a weight attached to them that pulls at me…a weight I don’t believe I actually need in any way, shape or form.
I discovered that releasing this box and a closet full of clothes I no longer wear, for obvious reasons, and dishes that no longer can serve a full complement of even four – all those things I no longer use, need, or even cherish other than in my mind’s eye, was freeing. I let go of some fond memories in their physical form and in doing so, I lifted the weight of that “me” from the 70’s to make room for me at 70.
I would strongly suggest taking a second look at all the “things” you have surrounded yourself with and consider making space for whatever is coming next. There is something vulnerable and exciting about letting go of all that with no plans for refilling the space. I find that I am now walking into my next adventure lighter and expectant. I am so grateful for what came before. Had I not had those experiences, I would have never arrived at this place, in this way, with such a full heart…and a much smaller moving truck.
I carry you all with me in a pocket of my heart – light, and lovely – a spice to liven up my next meal. Thank you, and God Bless Us, Every One!
