Moving on!
A good friend of mine who went through a particularly bitter divorce ten years ago refers with laughter to her “starter marriage.” She says, “I’m so glad I had a relationship where I made every possible mistake I could make, so that I could figure out what I wanted to do differently when it came time for the next relationship.”
As unpleasant as her divorce was, it allowed her to sort out what worked, and what didn’t work, in time for her next marriage, which, happily, has lasted quite a long time. When she moved from one relationship to the next, she left behind the stuff that didn’t work, and took with her the things that proved successful.
I’m preparing for a geographic move, from a place I’ve lived in for a long, long time to a place where I’ll be a newcomer, building a life again from scratch, starting over. Finding a grocery story I like. Figuring out what to do on a Tuesday night. Identifying “the best pizza in town” or “the yoga class that really fits me.” Finding a gym, a primary care doctor, a church, an insurance agent, an internet provider.
There will be lots of changes, from urban to rural, large to small, and, most importantly, from known to unknown. And, as is the case in all moves, there will be a very valuable opportunity: a chance to–with great mindfulness and compassion–leave behind the things I want to leave behind here, and take with me the things that I want to take to the next place.
That “hygiene” has my focus at the moment; the discipline of sifting and sorting, “what has become really valuable to me, what are the things that I want to be sure to take from this place with me?” and “what is no longer of use, burdensome, cumbersome; what is it that I should leave behind here when I go?”
Certainly there is STUFF. There are books to be given away to deserving readers who haven’t encountered them yet, clothing to be given to homeless people who would actually wear the stuff that is consigned to the dark corners of my closet. Things to be given away and things to be thrown away, and sacred treasures to be placed in the hands of people I love here, to leave a piece of myself with them when I move.
There are HABITS, patterns of living and being, ways of eating, exercising, allocating time for myself and time for others. What works? What is in need of being thrown out or left behind? What is it that I would like to make more space for as I move? An easy list pops into mind–leafy green vegetables, exercise, time for meditation and prayer.
And, there is the question of how Touch Practice itself will shift. On one level, local “regular” partnerships here will come to a close and local “regular” partnerships in my new home will emerge. On the other hand, the workshops we have been doing across the country will continue. And I can blog from anywhere, even a plane, as has so often been the case. Touch Practice seems to know neither geographic nor other boundaries; it exists across time, demographics, and culture.
Those of you who pray, I’d appreciate your prayers! I look forward to unloading and leaving behind everything that doesn’t work so well, things that are outdated, habitual, instinctive, but unproductive. And I look forward to welcoming the new, the different, the unconventional, unexpected, unanticipated. The things I didn’t even know about, prayers I couldn’t pray because my mind wasn’t open enough to the possibilities of what exists.
Touch Practice itself is a constant practice of refining, improving, and narrowing: what do we want to leave behind; what doesn’t work? What do we want more of in our lives? What blesses and amplifies and enlivens us? Touch Practice involves constant motion, constantly moving from where we were to where we wish to go next.
This is a record length (short!) blog! But it says what needs to be said. Blessings to everyone.
Have thoughts you’d like to share?
Touch Practice is a sacred practice for me, and part of that is keeping confidences sacred. While a name and e-mail address are required to post a comment, feel free to use just your first name, or a pseudonym if you wish. Your e-mail address will never be seen by or shared with anyone. It is used to prevent spam and inappropriate comments from appearing in the blog. I’d really like to hear from you!
Excellent post, Kevin. I’m going through a massive downsizing myself, and the challenge of what to give away is, for me, guided overall by wanting my possessions to support the life I want, rather than the life I have. It’s complicated that while I know what I no longer want, I’m not sure what I do want — kinda like how packing for a trip is complicated when you know where you’re not going but don’t know where you are going! I just have to free myself of encumbrances and allow for possibilities.
The “stuff” is actually easy to deal with. (Generally: I have a few specialty or one-of-a-kind items that are proving difficult to find homes for.) The hard part is sorting everything that the stuff represents: the job I left for medical reasons, the lost dreams, the abandoned projects, people who’ve left my life, the retraining for a new career that went no-where. The books on decluttering don’t tell you about that part of it, and how much it can sting.
Hope you have a great move, and a wonderful future.
Just the other day, I drove past a storage unit facility that advertised “declutter your life and rent one of our storage units.” What a strange mixed message. So, I thought,”get the things I don’t need out of sight, and pay you to keep them out of sight so I don’t have to deal with letting go of them.” There are so many ways the world provides ways for us to put off dealing with letting go. Americans have it bad. Blessings on your decluttering journey. You are so right when you say that certain ‘things’ represent habits that no longer serve you, stuff that’s in the way of your creative development. It’s easy, so easy, to get them out of sight, to not deal with the emotions of releasing. Thanks, Kevin, you inspire me continually.