There is light at the end of the tunnel. What was so overwhelming just a couple of months ago will soon be a memory.
My goal of selling and/or donating all our stuff by the end of April, on the most part, was met. I have a bag of clothes and miscellaneous stuff that will be donated on May 17th, when a charity truck rolls through the neighborhood for collection. Everything else, which wasn't sold, was picked up by a couple of my neighbor's church members for the purpose of a rummage sale they are having in a couple of weeks. Everything else is in Rob's department—the remainder of the woodworking tools and the roll-top desk. Except for remembering to put the donation out on the curb on the 17th, I am done thinking and worrying about the stuff.
Although I had many moments of sentimental emotions tug at my heart and gut, I am amazed at how easy it was to let go of all our belongings. It was difficult for me up to the moment I realized Rob had sold my precious Christmas ornaments, as I'd mentioned in my last post. After that, letting go was a breeze. Surprisingly, I felt upset only when any of my daughters didn't 'want' something of mine. I'd get this feeling like my stuff wasn't good enough for them, that all I'd acquired meant nothing. And you know what? It really does mean nothing. It's just stuff that I'd brought into my home to fill space, physically and mentally. It was good enough for me because my things were meant to reflect me. I realized the emotions I felt were simply the residual attachment I had for all the things I'd once thought consequential, and the fact that I'd never see them again.
I've known for a long time that a lot of the stuff I'd accumulated was purchased because I, like so many people, got wrapped up in that insidious thing called instant gratification when the key to my happiness seemed unrecognizable or unattainable. I knew I was looking for that something which each of us seeks. And I can tell you, if you are still in the instant gratification phase of your life, that your happiness will only get more and more mired under the heaps of things you buy for the wrong reasons. You know when you are doing it, but still you buy. And each time you do, you get further and further from the core of your happiness because you keep looking outside at all the purchases decorating your space. But when you shed all the stuff and nothing is left but you, then you see where your happiness has been hiding all the while. I'm not saying that there isn't a bunch of work to do to get you to that place of peace and the all-important sense of worthiness that is necessary to experience true happiness—which, by the way, isn't something that happens to or for you. It is the sense that who you are, where you are, what you have, and what you want to do for fulfillment is enough.
Tomorrow we celebrate our daughter's marriage and then await the arrival of her son, due any time after that. We will enjoy the little one for about a month before we embark on our journey—the one we've talked about for 30 years and, until nearly 10 months ago, thought we'd never be able to make happen. We went from wondering what the heck to do with ourselves, and thinking we'd spend the rest of our lives in our house, to making the whole country our home all in a span of three weeks. Wow.
And when I think about it, I know my mantra helped make it all occur. For the months preceding our big revelation and life-changing event, whenever I'd meditate I'd repeat, "When an opportunity presents itself, I will recognize that opportunity and I will act upon it." Its the end on one hand and the beginning on the other. Isn't it wonderful that I have husband who wants the same thing? Although, he will paraglide the country and I will photograph it.
Sounds like a plan to me.