I've had this one in the queue for a few days. Sometimes, I start a post...and the ideas, inspirations are there but come out slightly unformed and, therefore, involve a vague stabbing at and overall a mess to clean up. But I think I'll give some energy to shaping this one up.
Today (actually Friday) I saw my life through the eyes of a moving company appraiser. And I didn't at all like what I saw.
Stuff. Stuff. Stuff. I'm drowning. I've seen for quite some time that I can't enjoy the essence of a life lived because...I can't locate it in the mass. Actually, I'm pretty sure it's not even there, at least not in its entirety. Despite the inherent obvious horror of it, the thought of a fire consuming my life of THINGS has sometimes had a 'clarifying' effect: seeing with unencumbered eyes what is truly important. Except for family photos, my mother's paintings...hmmm...and not much else...I could live without most everything. Oh, yeah: and my one favorite outfit. Of course, as always, I may be exaggerating to make a point.
But - immediately - I see the baggage theme as one that requires some essential and deep soul-searching. The weight of things around me is directly related to the weight within.
During our time at Nashotah House seminary, Fr. C. shared a comment made by a professor (and former monk), who would - while divesting/dressing in the sacristy after service - say to someone "Please pass me the hat that I wear." His years of living in community had taught him to expunge the my from his vocabulary, substituting a longish phrase that itself was an icon of a journey of detachment. I was struck to the core by the implications of this some 20 years ago, as I am still now.
What grabs me now is the mound of baggage that comes with the qualifier 'my'. The sweetness of possession quickly sours as the terror of (false) credit or responsibility takes over. The hat is merely the beginning, the point of inspiration. What about...
The costly weight of my perceived ownership of internal baggage is to be shrugged off. Amen.
Tonight, the cool Delta breeze wafting over
"Lift the sash to air the breeze." Patricia Barber
Summer couch in the early 60's
11 comments:
I understand, and I wholly empathise and wish you joy on the journey. I began letting go several years ago, and I'm still in the process of so doing. I live with an elderly parent and the time is fast approaching when my life will change completely, and I will need to be *portable*. Even more than that, I want to be *free*.
I'm now gladly discarding, flogging, donating, what have you, things I never thought I could do without. As I replaced much of my print music library with .pdf editions, and discovered electronic editions of books, my lifetime accumulation of "things" has become smaller and smaller - and it feels good.
I'm not yet where I want to be, but I'm on the way. I hope to be given the time to finish the way I'd like, but I'm grateful for the time I've had and the liberation I've begun to experience.
My best friend, and oft-times lyricist, lost everything in Katrina. I think that was the turning point for both of us, when we began to realise that it's all just "stuff".
Blessings. :)
dearest brenda (dragonfly),
It is already very evident to me that this move is the catalyst for many profound things/changes in your life. That's what challenges are for, right!
I am reminded of mine and Jordan's first months in Brazil when you talk of the weight of "stuff." Part of my mourning during that time period was the lack of objects and stuff that had been taking up space and time in my life- suddenly I was left with nothing but bare bones me and a suitcase. Me, and my perfect husband/best friend. That was not as romantic as it sounds!! The American life is plagued with stuff; blessed are those who take on the challenge of excavating to the deeper layers to find out how rich you truly are.
I must say, though, that I can't wait to have a fully equipped kitchen here in about six months after two and a half years with only one pot and pan!! The key is in the appreciation, not the accumulation.
I love your blog and we miss you and love you and Fr. C so much!!!
Several times in my life I have stripped myself of all my possessions when I moved... except the most personal ones, a suitcase of clothes, some personal paintings, my diary books, photos - but all else went, complete kitchens, books including huge collections of art books and books full of memory and beauty, and furniture and clothes and whatnot.
I have moved about 25 times in my life, and several times not only from city to city but to different countries and even from Europe to the USA.
Does it change a lot? Not really. One just begins again to accumulate, which is fun as long as it's a game and I do not get attached to much.
But there have been times when I left all behind only to regret it for, and even after 25 years I am still aware of how rash it was, reactions of a moment, trying to escape pains and sorrow but with these forced changes I left unfinished paintings back which were or good quality and part of the mark(s) I made in this world and other personally attached things.
Over the years I think I have come to understand the fine balance of just 'things' and 'things into which I've woven my universe'.
Being able to freely have (and not 'must have') is a wonderful thing of reaching and sharing space with a thing and the environment.
Being driven by consumerism is stressful.
As long as you know you are not the thing, but that you are the one who puts meaning and beauty (or not) into things, it remains a wonderous and beautiful... thing.
Life changes are a great time to get unburdened from all the accumulated possessions that begin to own us after a while. Thanks for such a wonderful and thought-provoking post. *sigh*
And 'Amen' to Angela's comment, "The key is in the appreciation, not the accumulation."
I've downsized a couple of times now and this apartment is smaller than any I've had. A good portion of my library is in boxes in the second bedroom and my accumulation of found art and pieces is quite a disaster. Occasionally I regret putting some things in the dumpster we rented before we moved here. But overall, this is better. Much less bother.
Dear and insightful Jane -- Thank you for your thoughts on this kind of 'liberation'. Yes, there is freedom in letting go.
I'm learning to pay attention to my stomach -- when it tightens up as I consider keeping or throwing ('flogging', I like!), the spirit begs for the latter.
Precious Angela, when I think of the exotic and yet frustrating journey you & Jordan have been on, I always come back to gratitude and awe at...not the lessons learned...but perhaps the life learned/lived. I see this also in my daughters lives as they traverse new territory, journeying in ways I would never have thought of when I was their age.
What wonderful human beings!!!
'Stuff' sucks...literally...as it takes the life out of a person.
Marlyse, I already commented on the 'other side'. But rereading your comment, I have to say that I am struck by the dramatic sweep of your life and how it is framed in what is at your core: your art.
"As long as you know you are not the thing, but that you are the one who puts meaning and beauty (or not) into things, it remains a wonderous and beautiful... thing." Perhaps an 'ultimate' artist's statement.
Minka, you and M model in all things a wonderful balance in the elusive relationship between people and things.
Appreciation is a facet of gratitude. And, as such, it does 'ask for' (not demand!) open hands...
Melusina, I've always been in awe of your relationship with life in general and the touch & feel of the physical in particular. You and your life exude enjoyment. I aspire to such, but fall short. So, I simply admire yours!
Am peeking out of my matted mess of a life tonight. Will travel to your land to see if there is a post on the wondrous occasion of the recent celebration of your birth.
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