Yes. It really is happening. We really are preparing our house to be sold, hopefully sooner than later. Selling the house will open a huge can of worms–namely all of the clutter I have been stashing in closets and drawers for the last four years–but I’m ready. I’m ready for change. I ready for the worms to slither out of the can and into the earth where they can revel in their dark, moist freedom. I’m ready for them to churn up the soil and make it more fluffy and fertile and perfect for beautiful things to grow.
Today the photographer came, the one hired by our listing agent to take some nice pictures of our house which will hopefully entice people to come have a look. Because of the marvelous thing we have these days called the internet, any number of folks will be able to click a few times and see what my house looks like when all of the crap has been put away (or stashed in the hallway for the picture).
When the photographer arrived my two year old son was gearing up for his afternoon fuss fest. It was past his nap time and we had disrupted his regular routine by making a first visit to his preschool teachers, with whom he’ll be spending two mornings a week this school year…that is, until the house sells, which, who knows how long that will take?
Photographing a house to be listed entails moving crap out of the frames so that each room looks as clean and bright as possible. My son kept putting more stuff where we had removed the stuff, and he was running into the frame as the photographer was shooting, so I resorted to locking him in his room to preserve my sanity and that of the photographer. Accompanied by the loud protestations issuing from the upstairs bedroom, I picked stuff up, moved stuff, stashed stuff, put stuff back–it was a moving stuff around orgy. The fact of my getting very little sleep kept slapping me in the face lest I forget, and I ended up being less patient with my kids than I would’ve wanted in the hours following the photographer’s visit.
There were coasters in my underwear drawer, a printer on my kitchen table, my son’s trucks in the hall, blankets on the floor. Everything needed to be put back into its proper place, and no one was there to do it except for yours truly. I had a battle with the part of myself that likes to get really resentful and perform tasks with a bitter taste in my mouth; I didn’t want to be cursing my husband for not being there and then jump down his poor, unsuspecting throat upon his arrival, so I decided that I was going to be positive in spite of it all.
It worked for the most part. I survived the day, the children were fed dinner and bathed, and I’m finally have a nice quiet moment to myself…which brings me to the part of sitting up taller. When objects in a house are moved about, it does things to the energy of the space. Energy flows more easily and the feel of the place changes palpably, profoundly. With so much stirred up in my house, I’m stirred up too. I like this feeling of moving energy inside and out. I like a place sparkling clean and bright. I like my work space refreshed.
This morning I had completely cleared out my little meditation room in anticipation of the photographer’s visit, and this evening I enjoyed mindfully putting my cushion back in its spot and reassembling my Dharma Desk so that I would have my writing nook all set up again. As I arranged my small singing bowl, a beeswax candle, a favorite rock, and the sweet affirmation card (seen above) in strategic spots on my desk, I could see that the energy of the room sparkled with cleanliness, with freshness. Putting care into the way a room is organized translates into caring for those who spend time in the room, and it was a gift to be able to put such care into my space and my Self. When I finally sat down to write this evening, I sat up taller than I had in a while, and gave myself more space in my body to breathe deeply and be inspired.
Breathing deeply and letting the ink flow out of my pen and onto the pages of my journal just felt so…right. Listening to the hum of my essential oil diffuser perfuming the air with vetiver, ylang-ylang, patchouli, lime and sandalwood, I was reminded of all of the treasures I have in my life. There has been a profound shift in my outlook, my perspective, since we began to take serious steps in the direction of moving–and it makes me wonder why we didn’t think about doing this sooner. I guess because we weren’t ready then…but we are now.
Change is good. Movement is good. Breathing is good. Now let me just stay balanced in the midst of this motion, getting enough rest, eating proper meals, having quality together time with my family. Moving across the country will be one heck of a ride, and I want to enjoy every step!
Not let us speak on enjoying each step of the journey…
Don’t let your mind fool you into thinking happiness will happen someday.
Someday never comes, neither does deferred happiness…
Don’t believe the mind that mistakenly thinks,
“When this happens, I can be happy.”
Happiness is now.
In the cricket song,
In drops of pure water,
In a dog barking several streets away.
As you walk your path today,
remember that happiness is in every step.
Your breath in, joy.
Your breath out, pure love.
As you turn to face the challenges,
greet them as friends.
They hold a mirror up for you
and reveal to you the beauty you were too blind to see,
when you were hurrying,
rushing into your illusory, future happiness,
that old ubiquitous mirage
that has us all collectively waiting,
waiting for conditions to be right
so that one day we may feel joy, or peace.
The joy is now.
The peace is now.
In this step, this one step.
This breath, this one breath.
On this journey back home to now.