Ok. Brace yourselves.
I’m almost all the way moved in.
Just one or two more CARLOADS.
I mean…how did I accumulate all this stuff?
People are telling me
Just be patient.
You just moved in.
Unpacking takes time.
And I’m thinking
I have way too much stuff.
I hoping that my letting go muscle
will get stronger and stronger
as I go through this.
I took one carload to Goodwill today…
toys, shoes, baby clothes, rugs,
shower curtains, towels…
and a beautiful (expensive) bedspread
that we got as a wedding present…
I looked at it last night and thought,
I couldn’t possibly take a new lover
into my bed with this thing on it.
(I mean, I’ve been celibate for 2.5 years,
but maybe someday there will be
a lover in my midst…)
And so this bedspread had to go.
I keep holding a vision
of myself in a better place
and I look at these objects
and ask if I want to take them with me
into my future.
If it doesn’t fit with my future vision,
I let it go.
I didn’t realize that I had been working so hard
my whole entire life
to arrive in this moment
with enough strength
to simply let go.
As I sort through boxes of papers,
kids’ drawings, greeting cards,
old photos, clippings,
my drawings, lists upon lists
of ideas, plans, goals,
as I survey many more boxes to go through,
boxes of stuff…random bits…
appliances, cleaning products,
textiles of every kind,
doodads and thingamabobs,
it brings new meaning to the phrase
Going through it.
I, my friends, am really
Going through it.
I’m going through layers upon layers
of the life I shared with another
when we were married,
when we were a family of four.
He left and took what he wanted.
He left me responsible for the rest.
I am going through it.
It strikes me as odd and yet fitting,
that I would need to take my old life
with me to this new place
in order to see how my old life
doesn’t fit in here.
I had to feel this feeling of my old life not fitting
in order to go through it and release
what no longer serves,
what is too heavy,
too laced with old memories.
I didn’t feel safe letting go in the old house.
Somehow the old things protected me.
But I had to leave the house we shared;
it’s no longer mine, or his.
So I took all our stuff with me,
and crammed it into my new space,
a smaller space,
a much smaller space.
Boxes and bags and bins
and little pathways in between,
it has felt like a hoarder’s den
the last few days,
as I carted the last bits
from the old to the new.
I see now:
My old life is choking the new.
I had to feel this.
I had to feel this discomfort.
I had to feel this feeling
of drowning in my old life,
surrounded by what no longer works,
so that I could clear some space
to welcome the life that wants to be lived
when I’m willing to stand in the present moment,
in a willingness to feel what is alive, right now.
Stuff, stuff and more stuff!
There is no end to the stuff!
Stuff that was left behind
when he walked away from our life together,
and now I get to sort through all of it.
Years of the content I created as a yoga teacher,
in binders, in bins.
Bins of fabric and yarn.
Books, books and more books.
Clothes and shoes.
Random bits of this and that…
Plus the household stuff.
Is there no end?
I’m am so exhausted.
But there is still more stuff.
Ok, so, I’m moving…
And, well, I have a house full of stuff…
And, I’ve barely done any packing…
And…it’s all ok.
I woke up asking
What would Life feel like if I didn’t have to be in control?
I also asked
What would I feel like if I knew my own worth?
In the contemplative tradition,
these questions stayed deeply with me throughout the day.
While I was driving, or tidying, or teaching a yoga class,
or fixing dinner, or bringing another car load of stuff to my new home…
I kept asking these questions,
and as I asked, I simply felt peace.
It’s as if something has unlocked inside me,
and it’s something that has been waiting for a long time.
Could it be my true nature, yearning to express itself,
always being pushed into the shadows
by the illusions of control and inadequacy?
Now, as I contemplate the shadows,
it’s as if my eyes can see through the veil
to what has been waiting all along:
my Self, peaceful, whole and complete.
You know, he said,
You really are getting a lot of this right.
And I took this in,
and I wondered why I fixated so
on everything I thought I was doing wrong.
Could it have been the way I was spoken to
during my marriage?
Or was it the way I was spoken to
when I was a child?
I’m thinking both.
I’m thinking what I learned as a child
led me to tolerate
what happened in my marriage.
Now it’s time to heal.
Now it’s time to celebrate who I’ve become.
I’m a human, and I make mistakes,
but you know what?
As a single mom/yoga teacher/meditator/
healer/visionary/creatrix/lover of God
I really am getting a lot of this right.
As a teacher I can be in control;
I tell you what to do,
and I expect you to do it.
But when I’m the student,
I get antsy…I want to fiddle with things.
Tonight I was a student
in a breathwork class.
I remembered the necessity of trust
allowing the teacher to hold the space for me.
It felt strange at first,
because I am chronically the one who does the holding.
As I breathed
and the layers of my emotional body were peeled back
to reveal what was percolating underneath it all,
I remembered the saying
How you do anything is how you do everything.
I thought about how LIfe as my teacher
must get so frustrated with me, my fiddling.
Life just wants me to trust and surrender,
allowing the space to be held for me,
allowing myself to be held.
I’m turning toward the one within
who has been suffering so long
trying to be good.
Sitting on my cushion,
tapping on the points,*
releasing old stories,
crying tears of old grief,
something waits for me.
Behind the stories,
before the stories,
before the layers were piled on top of me,
there was just this Self,
this essence of being,
open, clear, available to the present moment.
Uncovering that Self,
listening, seeing, and celebrating her,
setting her free to live and love authentically,
this is why I do this work.
It is so worth it.
*I’ve been practicing EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique) daily since mid-May. It has gotten me throught the worst moments of terror and anxiety about the future, and grief, shame and regret about the past. It has also helped me to stay sober when I had moments of wanting to numb out with various societally acceptable ways of escaping one’s feelings. Do you practice EFT or have you ever heard of it? There aren’t too many people in my sphere who have. I have found it so helpful that I’m feeing called to share the practice.