Each time, I have wanted to stick a grave marker and some plastic flowers in the 'ground' and walk away to Beautiful, but each time stayed. Went from building with straw, to sticks to......you guessed it - brick. This time it's BRICK!
Life has chapters, life has passages. I asked a young friend, who is going through a hard time, "How old are you now?" She told me. After I empathized I said, "You're right on schedule - it's one of those passages in life that you get through to the other side of the rubble and rebuild something wonderful and new. Fresh. I know you girl, and I know you will get on the other side - borrow my hope for you." I feel for her, want to listen, and want to offer comfort if I am allowed and able. The chapter had a different title, but the feelings I recognized in my story at her age.
There's this hunger to find some older gals who can tell me their stories, reassure me and comfort me about this passage in my life that they have already passed through. The kind of story that sort of fades off making me sit on the edge of my chair and exclaim, ".....and then what happened?" They'll just smile probably and say simply, "Well, I'm not sure of the details, but here we are, aren't we!"
There's new construction, new habits, new thinking, new music going into this story of my life. It feels a bit sparse and unfamiliar. It's got a different rhythm that will take some getting used to. I don't want to be afraid of it, yet feel timid.
When Craig and I cleaned up after the '89 earthquake in Santa Cruz, we just shoveled all the broken, useless messy mass of debris into the junk pile. Didn't dig through to salvage much.
It was disheartening and a waste of energy. We were scared to start over in a new place, and yet each new place, each move (no matter if geographical, emotional or spiritual) has yielded wonderful memories, growth and friends.
Whenever we've moved, which we've done about 10 or so times, we purge, throw and give away the 'stuff'. It feels good. Each time, because the minimum feels orderly and easier to manage, I always promise myself to be careful what I bring home. Doesn't work long term, as clutter seems to accumulate over the years, in spite of good intentions.
That's practically speaking. Figuratively, in this life' passage', how will I choose to rebuild, refurbish, renovate and restore? What sentimental or meaningful things will I still use? What clutter will I choose to do without? What will I replace? What will I replicate?
I read somewhere that you only keep what is truly beautiful and truly useful.