…I wonder if there is a ghost in everything we ever own?
Since I can’t bring all of our things as we “right-size” for our new life, I am taking everything we are donating to Top Drawer, a shop where all of the profits serve to support AIDS Services of Austin, and a housing community, and hospice program. I feel really good about this.
And yet I ache over some of the things we are letting go of, even this box of vases. Perhaps I should conduct a little ritual where I thank the ghost in each of them for their service and beauty, and bless them to be of service to others. I must also remember to be grateful that I ever had use of them at all.
Always return to gratitude.
Yesterday evening after we helped a woman fit my little bistro set into the back seat of her convertible (I know…but we managed) we walked back to our downstairs patio, and with the exception of one small table, it was completely empty. We both sighed.
Last night as he slept, and I was still wide-awake, I took down all of our art and wrapped it. When the sandman still wouldn’t come calling, I sat to write for a while.
I pace, sleep eludes me
the art is off the walls now
we erase ourselves
Intellectually, I knew what we needed to do, and I knew we would, but it was hard to conceive of parting with almost two-thirds of our things. Until just the last day or two I had no glimmer of what the “upside” of all of this was. All I felt was anxious.
I knew our collective dream, but was too absorbed by this process, the change, and the loss to get excited.
Now, I’m excited! The more we let go, the easier it became. It’s like standing on the diving board looking all the way down at the sparkling cold water that awaits you. And you stall…and rationalize…and doubt yourself…and doubt yourself some more…then you just jump! And you find it wasn’t as horrible as you’d convinced yourself it would be. It wasn’t horrible at all.