by Liz Jansen
As I write this on the eve of departure, mixed emotions flood through me. Leaving the driveway happens in the morning (Monday). At times like this, the best strategy is to focus on one day at a time, knowing that all is well and is falling into place exactly as it is meant to.
My motorcycle is all ready to go. Tomorrow I’ll go through my morning practice, then bundle up Measha, pack her toys, favorite blankets, and treats, and a friend will pick us up and take us to the home that will have the joy of her company while I’m gone. Then it’s back home, changing into my riding gear, saddling up and getting out of the driveway. That’s the hardest part.
Over the past several weeks, my focus has been on divesting myself of things I know I won’t need for at least a year. As I’ve gone through closets, and assessed which pile stuff get’s assigned to—i.e. take along (a very small pile),post on Kijiji (a small pile), store (a modest pile), send to the thrift shop (a big pile) or allocate to waste, including recycle (a small but shameful amount). This exercise has been disturbing, as it’s caused me to realize how many non-consumables I have. It’s been an excellent exercise in prioritizing though. If something hasn’t been used or worn for years, it’s gone, even though there’s an emotional attachment. Of course, I’ve kept the most sentimental things—and a few with emotional attachments.
It’s made me thing about what must cross the mind of someone who’s dying. Looking around and seeing these things that have accumulated over time, that seemed important when they were purchased, but realistically, don’t make our lives any better. Or bring us closer to Spirit. We need a certain amount for safety, security, and shelter, but beyond that, most of us in Western cultures have way more than enough. Way more than our share of the earth’s resources. I’m fortunate to have gone through this exercise now when I can correct my habits.
I’ve gone through the purging exercise when I’ve moved but never has it been as poignant as now. I’ve mentioned before how turning 60 is the start of a new life cycle in many in cultures, so this is a big ending that I’m going through. Perhaps that’s why the intense emotions. But without endings, there can be no beginnings. And that’s what I’m embracing, while respecting the past
The Universe’s wheels are in motion. I just have to keep my hand on the throttle.