GREAT TEACHERS

“Do one thing everyday that scares you.”
That quote by Eleanor Roosevelt, which appears on a magnet on my refrigerator, has had particular resonance these days for me.  I am letting go of a lot of possessions, my current home, as well as seeing my last child leave the nest. The process is, on a daily basis, scary.
There have been many events in my life that have taught me large lessons and the one that is current for me is moving this summer from my home of six years.

I have been working toward this for months, sorting, cleaning, packing, purging, planning, etc.
I confess I am somewhat of a perfectionist in some ways and getting things sorted into the right box or to the best recipient or to the church rummage sale is important to me. So, for the past several months I have dedicated myself to this huge task and although I have felt good, systematic, accomplished, and on target, the other day I had a meltdown.
How in the heck did I accumulate so much stuff?
To this day, my mother bursts into gales of laughter when see sees my attic. She loves to remind me of something I said (Did I really?) when I was living an “alternative lifestyle” in the 70’s. Apparently I said I would never own more possessions than I could fit in a VW beetle.
Well, never say never, hmm?
Anyway, things have gotten totally out of hand and I am learning some great lessons. Let me share a few with you.
We are taught from childhood that our belongings are not as important as people or relationships or larger more sustaining connections. While this is true, there is something to be said for the possibility that perhaps we don’t care ENOUGH about our possessions. We have created a disposable world. Many things we purchase have a short shelf life. Just reflect on how quickly computers, for example, become relatively obsolete due to lightening fast changes in technology.
Also, tools, cars, mechanical things, toys, etc. don’t seem to last very long and we have to replace them frequently.
Perhaps, if we actually cared more for our possessions, we would take better care of them and would have less broken stuff in the landfill. I can still see my grandfather carefully oiling his machinery and gardening tools. He planned for them to last his lifetime so he cared for them that way. While it can be cheap and easy to buy new stuff, we can lose our respect for the objects that serve us, and become careless and nonchalant.
Georgia O’Keeffe, one of my mentors, said we should only have things around us that we love, that nurture us and our spirit. Many of my possessions were “fillers” for a particular space, or something that I had received but was never really “me”, or just an object that had been but was no longer, useful.
My sorting strategy was to look at each object and ask myself, “Do I love it, do I need it, when did I last use it?” Then the sorting occurred.
What I want is a life with more “essential-ness”, things that are the deep root of need or of appreciation, the “essence” of beauty or usefulness. I want to love, not just like or tolerate, a possession. I want to own things that respond to care and give me good long, service.
”What if I get rid of this and I need it someday?” Gasp! I love that a friend of mine decided, while downsizing, that she did not need anymore to be the one who had that small piece of leather in her attic for the school project. She could go out and find that object again if it were needed. While it is always satisfying to have something you need for a project tucked away in the basement or attic, those “when, then” things can take up a lot of space. Trusting that there will always be “enough” is a great way to let go. By keeping an open hand it becomes not only easier to let go, but also invite some surprises to come in.
Insight no. 1: Develop more, rather than less, care for possessions.
While purging and packing, I was also planning the changes that need to be made to my new home and I began to feel like too much change was happening. I was feeling ungrounded and at loose ends. What would be most helpful thing to do, I asked myself in my best coaching inquiry?
Well, something familiar would bring me comfort I decided.
So, I got out my recipe box and found my grandmother’s cooked salad dressing recipe and made it. Just pouring that warm, sweet dressing over some crisp, fresh, young lettuce from a neighbor’s garden reconnected me to timeless love and care. I was renewed.
Insight no. 2: When big changes get overwhelming, find one small, familiar, routine, memory or tradition to reconnect with. Or this from the Dove dark chocolate wrapper: “Little things can make a big difference.”
The other day, after sorting through countless drawers and shelves and holding things at arm’s length I realized I was getting myopic. Everything was too close, to examined, too short distance.
I needed to establish some mental distance between me and the work as well as some longer-range view for my eyes.
I got on my bike and rode out to the country where I could see through the fields to the distant tree line, over the bridge to a piece of land jutting out into the water, down the road to where it disappeared around a bend.
On a shady back road I noticed the purple splatters of windfall mulberries on the gray gravel. I remembered how, years before, I would gather mulberries and make them into a pie or fresh jam for homemade bread. So I stopped, wrapped my fingers gently around a branch and tugged a small handful into my palm.
The juice ran through my fingers, staining them a beautiful shade of purple, and the long forgotten taste of that fruit took me back to other places and times when my possession fit into the back of a VW bug.
Insight no. 3: When your focus is too close for comfort, get out and experience a wider vista, either of mental or actual space. And one from the Dove candy wrapper: “Make time for you.”
One afternoon I slipped on a slick floor in my kitchen and hit my chin. I went to lie down and regroup and realized that I was feeling overwhelmed and had been on such a roll that I hadn’t allowed myself to experience the enormity of this move, this letting go of spaces and rituals that were important to me in this home I would soon be leaving. While the move had been planned and happily anticipated, this was also the home my son and I had shared for 6 years and now he was leaving for college. Now my role as a mother would be different. I realized I needed someone to give me a hand, that “She-Ra” who is capable of all great things, had to ask for some help.
"Can you bring some boxes and leave them on my back porch?"  Over the next few days, boxes of all sizes appeared on my back porch. People just dropped them off.
It was exactly what I needed. People asked what they could do to help. I gratefully let them know how they could be supportive and helpful and my energy was renewed.
Insight no. 4.: Learn to ask for help. And from the Dove candy company: “Call an old friend.”
I have (or had till they got packed up) lots of magnets on my refrigerator that had small quotes of wisdom on them. They say things like  “Take care of you,” and “Surround yourself only with things that you love.” I like those short, easy to memorize sayings. You might say that lots of what I need to know, I learned from those refrigerator magnets, the Dove wrappers and certainly the chocolate that was inside them!

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