When I began the process of selling my home several months ago, I asked a Realtor to come over and assess the situation. We talked marketing and the best time to list and then we walked around my house and he gave me ideas for “staging”.
“The lions on the front porch have to go. Take those pictures off your refrigerator. Replace that entrance rug with something more neutral.”
And then he stopped in his tracks at this framed quote on my wall- “Everything Belongs”.
“That’s nice” he said.
Everything Belongs. A quote from Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest who advocates for living simply so that others might simply live. A reminder to me every time I walked from my kitchen to the front door that no matter what happens in my life, it all belongs.
This morning I am up early to do some last minute packing. I am having my coffee on the floor of my office. No desk. No chair. No potted blooming orchid.
The emptiness belongs.
The excitement of the next chapter. The heartache. The anticipation. The moist fragrant morning garden. The anxiety. The hopefulness. I take it all with me.
Pierre Teilhard de Chardin stated it most eloquently: “We are not human beings on a spiritual journey. We are spiritual beings on a human journey.”
The lessons learned in this beautiful home and the woman that I’ve become in the last 17 years- those things can never be left behind.
And tonight when I revisit my beautiful home in my dreams, I will remind myself. That life changes and the lessons continue and I take it all with me. And not one experience in life is out of step or out of sync with the other.
And the future is ripe for new experiences, new gardens to plant, new people to meet and new lessons to learn.
And in some unpredictable and unexpected way, it all belongs.
Many years ago, I attended a funeral with my then husband, for one of his co-workers. The gregarious and well respected engineer died relatively young leaving a wife and two small children. I don’t remember how he died but I do recall how sad the service was and how irritated I was as the priest continued to encourage the congregation to “Let Go and Let God”!
I didn’t think for one minute that this man’s wife and family were ready to swallow that message. Their grief was palpable and there would be difficult days and nights to get through before they could possibly “let go” and find peace with their loved one’s death. I cried the entire way home from that funeral feeling that life was so unfair and random and unpredictable. Vestiges of my own personal losses came up out of nowhere. Letting go was the last thing I wanted to do.
I found this card in a box with other momentoes that I have saved through the years. It was given to me after the death of my father more than 20 years ago with a heartfelt message from two dear friends from church, Mark and Margaret. So timely that the message should find its way into my hands, asking to be reconsidered.
When the student is ready the teacher will appear. I’m ready to hear this message. This is my intention for 2015.
I am a saver of old cards, of my parents things, of photographs, of memories. I have trouble opening my hands and letting things sift through, only keeping what is most important. I cling to old ideas and patterns and struggle with transition and change. But some old ways do not serve me anymore. I am choosing to change the energy in my life and counting on God to help me take the leap to the new and unexpected.
Last night I had a dream about seeing our old next door neighbors from our first home in Whittier. (Previous neighbors! Kenn and Lynda- you guys aren’t old yet!) I felt that tinge of sadness and nostalgia that one feels when they revisit the past and remember good times and feel a sense of loss.
I am girding myself for said emotions.
Here’s to a new year. A year of exciting discovery and potential nostalgia and sadness.
The student is ready.