Good Morning Friends,
It’s Friday morning here. It’s been a month this past week that we moved into our apartment.
All of our belongings are here. Every box has been unpacked. Almost all is put away. I am excited to be here. I am grateful for all the divine ordained moments which brought us to this place and time.
And yet, I still sense we have a ways to go to make this place “our” home. For the last several weeks, I have been learning new rhythms, new routines, new ways to get from point A to point B, and even new ways this home works for hospitality.
Yet, it’s not yet “my new normal”. It’s not yet fully home. It takes time to make it a home, our home.
This morning my husband reminded me that in an entire month, he and I haven’t taken the time to put the good busyness aside to go for a walk. A moment to pause. Time to breathe.
We will wait no longer. Today, sandwiched between work, Home Depot and errands, will be a pause. A hand holding pause. A walk.
Enjoy getting a glimpse of my today.
Today I canceled all my morning plans and attended the funeral for a dear family friends’ daughter.
We sang songs, the Clergy prayed, and members of her family eulogized her. We celebrated her life as much as we could amidst deep mourning. In the middle of the minister’s homily, we learned how special this young woman was and how many lives she had touched. There were no dry eyes in the chapel.
Why do we weep when we hear about such things? Why do we celebrate someone in such a beautiful way when she dies?
As sad as I was and as sobering today was, I realized that our new city living is an opportunity to celebrate old and new friends in life and not wait for days like today to begin.
Looking for the sunrise of tomorrow. Looking for reasons to celebrate life.
I have used tags like: transition, change, and adjustments in many of my entries. I have tried to make it apparent that this life change has been about learning to do things differently, more simply, and without the extra baggage of our stuff.
Here it is 2 weeks later. We are about 85% there. The dust has not yet settled, but I am beginning routines however new they are. Yesterday I went to the gym in my building for the first time. Today I drove to the nearest Home Depot for a quart of paint. Later today, my daughter and I are going on a walk along the river.
So many new wonderful things to explore, but what about familiar routines, things that centered me, helped me to focus, and enabled me to settle down so I could read a sentence or two without my mind wandering to the next task waiting?
Today my centering moment is about sitting in the living room with a bowl of goodness. It’s quiet here. I hear only the drier across the room in the kitchen and the quiet hum of the air purifier.
It’s just me and my Creator. I am in wonder of how this all came together. I snicker a bit that all this “change” still brings me back to sitting in quietness for even just a few minutes to do the same thing I would be doing in my suburb life – receiving all this grace, practicing thankfulness, and journaling all my thoughts so I won’t forget a bit of it.
These days it’s all about remembering my location. I have lived just outside the City for many years, have learned the ins and outs of great places to eat, places in the Park to have a picnic, markets/weekend farmers markets to purchase fresh produce, and most importantly- best places to stand on the street for the Thanksgiving Day Parade.
There were no surprises about an absence for space. I knew that we would have less of that.
But all of a sudden, I am living in the City and I feel as though I moved to a brand new place and have to remember my location, high above the ground. New subway lines. Grocery markets near my apartment I have never shopped at . Parking in a garage that is not attached to my house. I ask myself how many grocery bags I can legitimately carry myself up to my apartment? The answer is fewer than I would like to believe.
However, each new day I wake up and walk out to my living room and am in awe that the beautiful view which is still there from the day before. Like a child on Christmas morning, I get giddy with excitement to open the blinds.
When I am not careful, I forget for a second that this is not a holiday, and after the last boxes are unpacked (this week), life will begin to commence. Our promise to welcome kindred spirits, new friends and friends yet to make -in our life and our home will take flight.
I have read that “the harvest is plenty and the workers are few”. I want to be in on this employment opportunity.
Now if I can just remember my location in the garage so that the next time want to get in my car, I can find 6B in fewer than 15 minutes.
Is there a mess in your home too? In your garage? In your basement? How about in your car? Your work or school bag?
My messes look different in different parts of my life. For instance, the mess in my new apartment is all about boxes I have no idea where to unpack. The mess in my body is from lack of needed TLC and sleep. The mess in my mind and soul is from going going going too fast these last weeks. And I don’t even want to tell you about relationships with people I love who I have neglected these last months.
The good news is that no mess is beyond repair. If my messy apartment can be ordered, and my overtired body can be revived, then certainly the deeper messes can also be tenderly and gracefully brought back to life.
I love seeing something broken beyond repair redeemed; something broken into pieces become beautiful again.
I have to keep reminding myself to be patient with this new chapter. Over and over, I told myself today, “I’m going to be OK with this mess”. Then I left the mess and went out for several hours to discover new places near by. I came home with way too many groceries and new candles I don’t really need. But I also came home with a renewed sense of a fresh mind and spirit.
Perhaps next time, I will show you more open spaces in my apartment. And perhaps not. I will choose to be ok with some chaos. I can not be in control always. I will release the pressure by embracing the fall.
I am looking for a soft landing….