Tomorrow is moving in day! It isn't just any moving day. It is more than a metaphor.
Besides moving some of my physical stuff back home, I am reclaiming myself. Me. The me that got left behind when so many other things took over. Things I allowed to be primary. Does that happen to you, too? No doubt. My story is your story.
The other day a woman made an unkind comment at dinner. I had invited people out as my guest. The meal was fine, not my choice of eating establishments. You know I prefer organic food. Not pub food. But that was their choice and I am okay with that. I wasn't okay with the comment made after we enjoyed our meal.
The bill arrived and I didn't see it. The woman sitting to my left said it all:
"I wondered how long it would take you to pick up the check," she said.
My guest. My guest making that kind of comment to me.
I moved back in at that moment. There was nothing to add to this thoughtless, ungrateful comment. Sometimes it goes that way. It is better to resuscitate yourself. This was her issue and not mine. I held my space, albeit a tad wounded.
She says these kinds of comments and I am not too sure why. But that isn't my path. Mine is to self-protect, nurture. Myself.
Maybe next time a zinger flies, I wouldn't be wounded. I will deflect the comment instantly. No words were necessary. She is wounded enough in her own unawareness.
I will also self-limit. My time won't be spent staying at their home anymore. Nope, I shall see them in transit. On my way home to myself.
Yep, it is moving in day. Everyday. Now.
Monday, March 31, 2014
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Home: Where My Story Begins. Again.
The past three months have found me living a spartan life. An empty living, dining, kitchen, master bedroom and second bedroom in the home I am coming to know again. Only the guest room is furnished.
These last few months in western North Carolina have been anything but empty. The only things I am truly missing is 'stuff.' I wonder how I - why I...needed it in the first place. Like so many others I fell into the consumer world. Then I emptied. I like it this way.
Of course, it will be nice to have something to sit upon. A comfy sectional, a place to store the myriad of paperwork our society seems to need. Ownership, cover yer butt and all documentation. You know what I mean. How did it ever get so complicated? Most of us need file cabinets, folders, calculators just to manage the daily march of paperwork into our homes. It was not that way fifty years ago and I lived well enough.
Even with the paperwork, my life has simplified. I buy less, eat less, want less. What I want...what I have now is a mindful lifestyle. It doesn't require busyness, or a feeling of needing to be 'productive' like western society defines it. It means I live more gently, use little, help others, tune in to what really matters.
At the end of one's life no one ever discusses the money they made, the stuff they have accumulated. They remember they didn't spend enough time with family and those dear to them.
When the moving truck arrives in April it will be bittersweet. Soon I will inventory the stuff coming into my sanctuary. What to keep, what to shed. For our exterior world has a lot to say about our internal one.
Home. Where my story begins. Again.
These last few months in western North Carolina have been anything but empty. The only things I am truly missing is 'stuff.' I wonder how I - why I...needed it in the first place. Like so many others I fell into the consumer world. Then I emptied. I like it this way.
Of course, it will be nice to have something to sit upon. A comfy sectional, a place to store the myriad of paperwork our society seems to need. Ownership, cover yer butt and all documentation. You know what I mean. How did it ever get so complicated? Most of us need file cabinets, folders, calculators just to manage the daily march of paperwork into our homes. It was not that way fifty years ago and I lived well enough.
Even with the paperwork, my life has simplified. I buy less, eat less, want less. What I want...what I have now is a mindful lifestyle. It doesn't require busyness, or a feeling of needing to be 'productive' like western society defines it. It means I live more gently, use little, help others, tune in to what really matters.
At the end of one's life no one ever discusses the money they made, the stuff they have accumulated. They remember they didn't spend enough time with family and those dear to them.
When the moving truck arrives in April it will be bittersweet. Soon I will inventory the stuff coming into my sanctuary. What to keep, what to shed. For our exterior world has a lot to say about our internal one.
Home. Where my story begins. Again.
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Missing Home
We are always wishing things could be different than they are. I wish this also. The reality is things are what they are. People are where they are.
In the past, I haven't done a good job of setting boundaries with those close to me. Mostly. There are always qualifiers. Maybe this is a time of life kind of thing. I haven't been a Medicare recipient until last fall. So please bear with me. I am getting the picture.
Walking the path is important. A friend mentioned that she thinks I 'walk the walk.' Well, mostly. The learning curve is getting shorter. I don't want to carry baggage. Yours or mine. Sometimes it is important to move beyond yourself when relationships get too heavy.
I am lucky, grateful to have such dear friends. Friends with whom I can tell, cry...my story. I want to let go of the storylines. If I don't, I will miss the present. My friends are wonderful. They share their experiences from which I continually learn. Our pain has no boundary.
One of my friends today said I looked sad. I am sad. Sad about a couple of things. Things that are not the way I wished them to be.
The other side of that is most of my experience on planet earth is a happy one. There is a fair amount of joy.I try not to analyze any of this but to sit with it, meditate and let it go. Regrets, anger, frustration only hold us back.
There is also a piece of land that needs attention, which, I have neglected too long.
The land has missed me and I it. It is good to be home. I am where I am supposed to be. As are you, my dear friends. Home is always in your heart.
In the past, I haven't done a good job of setting boundaries with those close to me. Mostly. There are always qualifiers. Maybe this is a time of life kind of thing. I haven't been a Medicare recipient until last fall. So please bear with me. I am getting the picture.
Walking the path is important. A friend mentioned that she thinks I 'walk the walk.' Well, mostly. The learning curve is getting shorter. I don't want to carry baggage. Yours or mine. Sometimes it is important to move beyond yourself when relationships get too heavy.
I am lucky, grateful to have such dear friends. Friends with whom I can tell, cry...my story. I want to let go of the storylines. If I don't, I will miss the present. My friends are wonderful. They share their experiences from which I continually learn. Our pain has no boundary.
One of my friends today said I looked sad. I am sad. Sad about a couple of things. Things that are not the way I wished them to be.
The other side of that is most of my experience on planet earth is a happy one. There is a fair amount of joy.I try not to analyze any of this but to sit with it, meditate and let it go. Regrets, anger, frustration only hold us back.
There is also a piece of land that needs attention, which, I have neglected too long.
The land has missed me and I it. It is good to be home. I am where I am supposed to be. As are you, my dear friends. Home is always in your heart.
Friday, March 14, 2014
Home...At Last!
Sometimes you have to put yourself out there to find yourself. I did just that.
this photo was taken the spring of 2011
Spending eighteen months in seacoast New Hampshire was an enriching experience. Not only did I spend time with my lovely family, I came to a new awareness.
Over the next year I will share some of what I learned with you, my loyal readers. I can begin by telling you I was completely out of my element in New Hampshire. I do this often.
Many of you know I trained as a gerontologist. In this vein, I spent my time in New Hampshire living in a fifty plus community. The reality of this was that most of the folks were in their mid seventies and beyond. The complex is advertised as an "active adult community."
The immediate loss of privacy took me by surprise. Many of these folks are retired, ill or with some kind of disability, most of which was induced by age or lifestyle. After living on a mountain for so many years, with self, I found the loss of privacy unacceptable. The almost daily visit by the ambulance didn't help with any peace of mind.
The reality is that peace of mind comes within. Even though I lost a few friends to death, over time I made some delightful friends. I still keep up with them. I cherish the friendships.
Life is fragile as are living things. Perhaps the best thing I learned is to be where you are. I had been on the path there before I left. I am definitely mid road now. And, I suspect, I will re-start and re-start the path as we all do.
It is indeed good to be home!
Spending eighteen months in seacoast New Hampshire was an enriching experience. Not only did I spend time with my lovely family, I came to a new awareness.
Over the next year I will share some of what I learned with you, my loyal readers. I can begin by telling you I was completely out of my element in New Hampshire. I do this often.
Many of you know I trained as a gerontologist. In this vein, I spent my time in New Hampshire living in a fifty plus community. The reality of this was that most of the folks were in their mid seventies and beyond. The complex is advertised as an "active adult community."
The immediate loss of privacy took me by surprise. Many of these folks are retired, ill or with some kind of disability, most of which was induced by age or lifestyle. After living on a mountain for so many years, with self, I found the loss of privacy unacceptable. The almost daily visit by the ambulance didn't help with any peace of mind.
The reality is that peace of mind comes within. Even though I lost a few friends to death, over time I made some delightful friends. I still keep up with them. I cherish the friendships.
Life is fragile as are living things. Perhaps the best thing I learned is to be where you are. I had been on the path there before I left. I am definitely mid road now. And, I suspect, I will re-start and re-start the path as we all do.
It is indeed good to be home!
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