Just a few more notes about these last two weeks. Then I will, ahem, let it go for now, although I suspect that there's a whole lot more to unpack, at least figuratively.
I did not watch or read hardly any news while I was gone, so it was true time off in that respect. It was hard to see the footage of the floods in west Texas, and I was reminded of another thing to be thankful for. I had time to do the grueling sorting and decision-making work and some of the emotional re-stabilizing. Most people in a flood or wildfire or hurricane or tornado situation have no time to grab anything but (if they are lucky) their purse or wallet or briefcase. Forget the agonizing questions about, "Should I keep this?" and "Should I give away that?" Everything else blows away in the wind, or floats downriver, or burns up, toxic or not, important or not, in one big stew. I am thankful that I could do this chore before it was done for me by the elements, never mind that my boxes would have fit into one modest-sized closet.
A little more on something I said yesterday. It may be the fact that I have received so little recognition or praise or acknowledgment in this lifetime that I have occasionally needed to go through my things (even just to pack them up again) to help me define myself. In America, telling people you have a passion for English church music was akin to speaking Greek -- it usually elicited sort of a sad, pathetic, "what on earth is she talking about?"-type response. I think I held onto programs from English cathedrals, and articles about the recent entrance of girls and women into that world, and maps, and memorabilia of my trips, in order to prove that my life was real, that it had importance, that I meant something. Getting rid of much of this doesn't mean that I have changed my mind -- it means that I know in my core that I am important, and now (in this transition of the ages) I don't need to carry around the heavy proof. But I've done so much of my own spiritual work over the decades -- this morning, I feel particularly for the women who survive these events and haven't had time to process things as thoroughly. The loss of their mother's sewing box or their grandmother's tea set or their childhood memorabilia may be far more devastating on a deep level than we can see. The questions about "Who am I without these things?" may be even more deeply wrenching, and I hold them in the light.
One last thing today, and this may sound a little weird. About the third day into this process, I started to think of myself as my own daughter, or granddaughter, or niece, or family friend. I pretended that I (Liz) had passed away, and I was keeping just those things that -- from that slight distance -- seemed truly important. Some of the things that I held onto earlier in the week, I let go of by Monday. I haven't died (and even if I had, we are eternal beings who take our soul realities into our next incarnations!) but looking at the physical materials from the standpoint of a loving younger version of myself made it easier to do the work. I kept reminding myself, we are heading into such a completely different reality that traveling light will finally be an asset, not a peculiar oddity.
Today started with torrential rains, even here. Blessing to all of you, in whatever manifestation of "letting go" you are living!
