Some Things Just Have To Stay

At least twenty-eight years ago, perhaps more; a promising young woodworker, Uncle Mike, made several of the Christmas trees pictured below and it was our privilege to receive one for Christmas.  It has graced our home(s) every year since (by my count, we have moved five times since then, but please note that I am a mere husband, and that count must remain unofficial until Sheila certifies it).  

A string of lights attached to the back of the tree make it especially charming at night.  I haven't asked how many of the others made lovingly that year have survived, I imagine any not still in use by the original recipients, have been handed down and are lighting up someone's home each Christmas.  In this pic, you can observe that ours has now made its sixth move (remember, folks, that's unofficial).  It will be stored in this climate-controlled space until Thanksgiving, when it will, as usual, be the first Christmas decoration to appear in our house.  The timing sure fits, we are thankful for all the years and all the family it represents--most especially for Mike and his handiwork, of which I know this is only one little example.  I realize the following is mistimed, but while I'm thinking of it--Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas to all.
  

Swiping Poetry

I swiped a poem yesterday

From a writer I admire.

I used his thoughts, of course,

But chose my own expressions.

A new vehicle, you might say

for feelings re-conveyed.

I did this only to see

If I could feel what he did 

(and perhaps the space between) 

When old Billy Collins wrote

his "Special Glasses" 

oh so many years ago.

He Quoted Thoreau, Nin and?

We met a man today and he quoted Henry David Thoreau and Anais Nin.  He was working hard to impress, but making a point in his own way.  I didn't know the third speaker, but could remember what he said, "Leap and the net will appear."  It turns out that was John Burroughs, a mountain climber.  I knew Thoreau's, "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined."  Our man is telling us he's marching to a new drummer.

At first, I didn't remember the Anais Nin quote.  She talked about who you are, but what was it?  I had a recent run-in with Ms. Nin, so I knew where to look for that one.  "We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.”  With all that said, what was he driving at?

Is he convincing us he's taking a chance, pursuing a dream he didn't know before?  Is he on the lookout for that net he's expecting to appear?  Is he attempting to find out if we will be a part of his net?  Ms. Nin is asking us to look within for who we are and realize we are seeing a world of our own creation.  What we become, becomes our world.  

We are watching him create his new world, marching in the direction of his dreams, making a leap, confident he will find a net below him.  How he chose to say those things to two perfect strangers, I do not know.  But he had a reason.  He's buying our house, and building something that fits his dream.  I hope he gets that chance, he's moving, that's for sure.

I'm Trying To Simplify My Life, Really

I want to simplify my life I said,

sell this house and buy a condo instead.

I want more time looking at beaches and boats,

Less time pushing my lawn mower,

Or dragging around that leaf blower.

Forget the ups and downs of real estate,

Buying low and selling high, that’s never been my fate. 

“Just do it” has become “do it sooner, not later”

the risk of waiting just keeps getting greater.

It sounded so simple.  Just downsize, we said.  Let go of things you no longer need.  I know we didn’t think the packing and moving would be easy, but now we are swimming in a flood of conflicts—it’s heave-ho vs. heavens-no!  We’ve only lived in this house for seven and a half years.  We have no basement and I was thrilled to realize we have managed to limit our attic storage to seasonal decorations—Halloween, Christmas, and so on.  But now— as BB King likes to tell us, “the thrill is gone.”  It left me when I came down from the attic having counted twenty-five plastic tubs and five bags of decorations.

It should be simple, but you have to swear off a lot of other things to get it done, including, at least temporarily all of your friends.  There are Facebook friends, LinkedIn Friends, email friends, phone call friends and a few special go-to-lunch friends.  They’re all put on hold for a while.  Don’t even try picking out the ones you want to keep. 

First, let me apologize to my Facebook friends, I don’t have time for you, you are buried in a tidal wave of stuff I just can’t wade through—from pictures of dogs to group photos of no one I know.  Forget it, I don’t need to know that much about you right now.

Those of you on LinkedIn, I’m retired.  When I was working, I was too busy to look at it.  Today, I don’t care. 

The rest of you will hear from me once my life is simple again.  I’m thinking mid-2014. 

  

In the mean time, there are books and bicycles, beds and bookcases, cabinets and coffee makers, chairs and china hutches, couches and cookie jars, Dressers and dishes, desks and dinnerware, games and gadgets.  

Relying only on impulse and intuition, we keep or pitch kitchen utensils and keepsakes, lamps and luggage, photographs and phonics books.  Each one is a decision, and there is no grand principle to follow. 

One of us thinks we are ahead in the race to the finish, and that would not be me.  We have two weeks to go, and I counted eighty-two pieces of furniture, and forty-two more spaces to undo and pack up.  Then it all has to be carried somewhere.  I don’t mind the thrift store or the solid waste recycling center.  They’re free.  The storage locker, on the other hand is anything but.

Today, we have fifty boxes packed at home, thirty or so boxes stored at my son’s house, six in the storage locker, four went to a woman we know with a young family, two boxes of books went to the library and there’s no telling if anything has really gone to the thrift store yet.

Of course, I’d be lying if I claimed to be the innocent here.  I counted fourteen pairs of shoes for me—ok, that included tennis shoes, sandals, etc.  I got that down to nine so far.  My spouse has so many I can’t get an actual count, diligent efforts led me to an obviously low estimate of thirty-five pairs.  If she can make a comparable reduction, she will dump twelve pair.  Raise your hand if you could do that in your closet today.  By the way, she read this piece over my shoulder, and promptly bought another pair of shoes this week. 

And then there’s the garage, it’s loaded.  But, no worries, I can be merciless there—after all, it’s my space.  It all goes, except for my toolbox, drill and 2 saws.  I do have a few things.  Anybody want a jar full of rusted nails?  How about a hole saw perfectly-sized to install a doorknob, or just some of the remnants of parts from a variety of items I installed or assembled since roughly 1985 (tragically, in our 1985 move, a number of boxes of garage items and some Christmas decorations vanished without a trace).   But, hey, it could be worse.  Did you know Jay Leno has a collection of cars, trucks and motorcycles that numbers 120?  Imagine what his garage looks like.

So, I’m simplifying my life, risking my friendships and my sanity as I do.  Right now, I’ll settle for simply surviving simplification.

Life Among The Boxes

I look down at what I dumped 

from my desk drawer to a box. 

Deciding what to keep now

And what to throw away

There are tie tacks and

Tie clasps I haven't spoken 

to in years.

 

The clasp-an M-60 machine gun 

given to me twenty years ago,

I always promised

to wear it to the table

When bargaining one day.

The pin-a ten year service

award from my first employer, 

Given just a month

Before I left them, I never asked

If they missed my smiling face. 

Should I keep them now?

Or toss them before the last 

Man on this planet 

Who knows their simple stories

Disappears for good.  

The box where they'd be kept

Will likely  never leave 

The storage locker rented 

For what isn't tossed

What we keep for better reasons

will stay stored either way, 

couches, books, dishes, coats

I'll soon feel more at home

At the thrift store with my chairs

And tables than here among the boxes. 

What Your Transmission is Trying to Tell You

As I sit in storm-washed South Carolina and wonder about the universe, I'm distracted.  I keep thinking about PRNDL.  I saw it this morning and it triggered more than usual.  Sure, I shifted into Reverse and left the garage.  Backing away from my house for one of a finite number of times that remain (we're moving).  I put it in Park, as I raised the top--yesterday was sunny and a day for airing everything out the way only a convertible can.  Driving a car has often been a time for thinking about things and collecting thoughts.  When the top is down, more of the universe intrudes, and your thoughts are full of air (no, I don't mean you become an airhead). 
 
And, I didn't pause when I put the car in Drive to head out into the world.  I passed right thru neutral and got going.  Can I really have momentarily forgotten where i was headed just twelve hours or so ago?  Yes, I was on my way to the recycling center with another load of stuff I was finally letting go of as we downsize our lives.  So, into Drive I went.  I live in one of the world's flattest places, the Lowcountry of South Carolina (hence our preoccupation with tides and storms with names).  Because it's so flat, Low gear never gets to play unless you have a pickup or an SUV and you have to pull a boat out of the water.  But, remember, I said I was driving a convertible, so no boat being hauled enters the picture.  
As I rolled out along the drive and surveyed the lagoons for alligators and birds, i thought some more about DL.  DL became Dalai Lama and one of his quotes changed my drive altogether.  You see, the thought that came to me was this"Happiness doesn’t always come from a pursuit. Sometimes it comes when we least expect it.”   And there I was.  

No, it didn't last, there are many, many thoughts percolating up there to take me away from moments like that.  But just until the end of our street, something alive was happening.  By the time I reached the stop sign, the rest of the world clicked in.  A pickup truck pulling yard mintenance equipment came around the bend, a cyclist dipped his head and pushed ahead going the other way and me and my load of detritus headed for the way station that would lead my cast off "stuff " to a landfill, or a real recycling, i don't know which.    

Later, I wondered why I couldn't have just shifted into Neutral and coasted along for a while.  A part of me immediately noted that would never happen--it's that pessimism in me.  Another meaning for that P on my transmission.  As I think about it, the R has a place, too.  R is resistance, what makes us back away from those moments and push on through to whatever we are grasping for each day.  It's that wheel (samsara) we're on, except for moments like mine this morning.  Thanks. 

Changing Things

The experts would have you believe this changing your life stuff is simply a matter of deciding what to change and then doing it.   My sense is that most real change in your life struggles with an element of loss, a chorus of doubts and a quantity of inertia that can paralyze you.  If you succumb to all of that and feel sorry for yourself, you wind up spending time in escapism.  Lucky ones find a form of escape that is somehow comforting and beneficial--like spending time with old friends, or tackling some mind-numbing work that you know has to be done at some point.  Those less fortunate find destructive activities or directions that can work their way into bouts with depression; things like sleeping too much, drinking to excess, watching television mindlessly for hours at a time, playing video games, etc.

For me, most of the time, the path forward has started with accepting the loss--trying to find some positive I can take away from the experience, but accepting the loss just the same.  It does no good to assign blame, either to yourself or someone else at this point.  It just happened, and further analysis will have little value other than to dredge up more regret.  Pretending it was really nothing is to deny that sense of loss, and I think it diminishes your efforts going forward if you don't accept that this was and is a painful spot you put yourself in.  Oh yes, you did it.  The situation you find yourself in is the one you chose for yourself.  Whether you stay in a situation that is no good for you, or you actively seek it out, it was and is a choice you made.  Accept that and move on.

But how to move on?  Each path you consider, easy or hard, will generate a hefty supply of doubts.  What if this happens, what if that gets in the way, I know this person won't like it, and more.  All those doubts can easily push you back down on the couch or back to bed, or wherever it is you're hiding.

But those doubts can help you if you choose to make it that way.  All those what if events can help you refine your plans--if "x" happens, I can do "y."  This kind of feedback on your plan going forward that anticipates some of the things that might happen does give you the opportunity to do a little strategic thinking.  You can be ready for some (but not all) of what lies ahead.

The people that you believe won't like it might become a good resource for you.   If you talk it through with them, they might just agree with you, or the drawbacks they see for you might be worth addressing in your plans.  And, you know what?  If those people don't fall into one category or the other I just mentioned--if all they are is just a source of negativity, maybe they don't belong in such a high place on your list of people who are important in your life.  Maybe you should be distancing yourself from them a bit.

Careful, though, you can't just dismiss everyone who disagrees with you.  Step back a bit and really listen and think about what they have to say.  If it's all negative, let it go.  If you can see something being given to you that is intended to help, try to understand it and make it part of your path forward.  If it isn't, don't invite this person to join your support team.

Yes, you need a support team.  You don't have to hold tryouts with all of them.  Some are in your corner no matter what.  Tell them what you are doing and ask them to help you in some way as you go.  People who belong on your team will be glad to help.  The more specific effort you ask from them the better.  You really aren't as alone as you think.

Finally, don't expect your path to change to pop into your head all in one piece and straight up the path.  Recognize that you may have to start (and restart) without having a perfectly clear or complete set of directions.  Some of that you will have to learn on the way.  The beginning of your plan may require you to simply do some things about taking better care of yourself before you march out to conquer what stands in the way.  Make a list of a few of those things first, then move on to the rest of the plan.  Begin by taking better care of yourself, follow that by making a list of people you hope you can count on as your support team and start talking to them about the changes you are considering and ask them what they think; then, each day, write down what you have done (e.g., today I ate a better breakfast, or I joined a gym, or I signed  up for a class, and I talked to one of those people on my list and this is what we talked about).  You have to start somewhere, and taking better care of yourself and spending a little time with friends and family doesn't sound so hard.  Why not get started?

A Walk In The Woods

I spoke too plainly at the wrong time.  I've spent a good deal of time kicking myself over it, so I went for a walk in the woods to have another go at letting it go. 

We all make mistakes. As I walked, I realized again I'll stop making them when I'm dead, so they’re keeping me alive.  I guess I knew I was taking a risk, expressing my thoughts.  I probably crossed a line that wasn't exactly visible from that vantage point.  On second thought, I'm pretty sure any reasonably astute person could have seen it.  As I think about it, I think I even had it pointed out to me once.  

I might have even thought I was giving a gift when I said it.  Sometimes when you give something away it comes back to you ten times over; at other times you just lose. Loss is the risk you take. 

As I enter a clearing, I find a bare tree that should have flowered and sprouted leaves by now.  I realize it's probably diseased or even dead.  There's an analogy here somewhere.  This little tree has to keep on giving up its blooms (probably with whatever a tree's version of pride and delight is), only to have them replaced by much less colorful leaves, which wither and die.  Then they fall off, and then they rot.  When you stop taking the risk of giving yourself away, you yourself withdraw and dry up, like that little tree and will be judged to at least be diseased, if not dead. 

But the tree still expresses those blossoms, puts forth its leaves, and, sooner or later, they fall off and die. Is the tree suffering when its leaves fall?  Do we lose something when what we express misfires and is lost?  Just like the tree, if we stop expressing ourselves, we will be judged devoid of life, won't we?

So I guess it's this same kind of process--taking chances, expressing myself, (misfiring as I did this time) and making mistakes--that keeps me alive. If all that sounds like suffering, I guess suffering is keeping me alive, too. 

There, I have wrapped it all up in a neat little package.  Now, as I turn my foot to kick it to the side of that path, a squirrel pops out from behind a tree and gives me a quizzical look, and I ask myself, "couldn't I just this once, have a do-over?"  Ah, nuts.