Empty Cluttered Spaces

I wonder if one of the disorienting factors about moving is that you end up living in between the kind of diametrically opposing tensions that we normally try to resolve.

Our house (or is it?) is devoid of floor space, with bins - empty or filled - and furniture - organizationally not decoratively placed - having suddenly been given prominence after years of being tucked away in the attic.

Nothing is put away. Everything is exactly where it's supposed to be which is exactly where it's in the way. It's a big fat mess that has been meticulously organized, down to the numbered cards with complete descriptions of what's in each box. So, I know exactly where everything is....I guess?

The house is feeling emptier and emptier even as I can barely make may way around the clutter.

I spend my days doing exactly the opposite of what my orderly spirit longs for. Un-putting things in their proper place.

Back to whether or not this even is my house.

Home is where the heart is.
So much of my heart lives within these walls, or at least it has for the past 36 years.

A house belongs to whose name is on the deed.
And right now, we're in transition in even that detail.

And.

We had the happy experience of meeting the new owners last night for one of their agreed-upon house visits post-signing. At least we met the husband-dad of the young family who will soon be putting away all their things in the proper place here.

And I cannot tell you what a positive experience it was to see the excitement on his face as he described the joy of first-time ownership as a new Canadian, looking forward to raising his family in this home and neighbourhood. There was goodness in the exchange, a warm welcome and words of blessing from us, and a deep gratitude for the grace and harmony he said he felt already in the house because of our lifetime of living here.

They have a small child, and today, as Zachary and I cleaned out our own craft cupboard, I put aside a few items to leave as a little welcome gift. They won't mind if we have to leave a few things behind, he said, so...that's just a start.

I suppose, then, there is peace to be found in these empty cluttered spaces. The tension is there to make this defining transitional moment more vivid, more meaningful.

And while right now it feels like I've been doing this for about 10 years straight without a break, this time will come to an end. There will be a time of putting all things away in their proper new spaces, and even in a quick imagining of it, I feel the joy.

Because some of you are thinking it...
Yes.
I'm taking it easy in the midst of it.
Zachary hauled the contents of the craft cupboard up to my bedroom and we went through it together while I lounged all lazy like.
I am asking for help and receiving it.
Not quite one week post op yet and behaving myself, I promise.
It's a slow go in one way.
But I believe I am seeing fairly 'textbook' recovery markers as I go.

There is still so, so, so much more to be grateful for than to be stressed about.

Hope this warm Wednesday has been good to you.

The Wisdom of the Gradual

 

What welcome sunshine this fine Canada Day! It was so very good to be outdoors for a little bit this morning, especially after five days spent basically inside, and most of that being in a hospital.

I'm especially pleased with this lily I purchased last year, but which did not bloom until now. This is the first time I'm seeing its glory...almost.

Growing things are such good lessons in the wisdom of the gradual. There is never anything good that comes from rushing the natural order of things, at least in these simplest of examples. I'm eager, for sure, to watch this bloom open its face fully. But to do anything else but wait is to destroy that story.

These will be days of the gradual. Healing, even when going splendidly, just takes time. And to do nothing else but follow all the wise advice, and just wait for the goodness of it to happen.

So for today, I am up and out of bed a little more often and for a little longer each time. I'm fine until I'm not fine and suddenly it can feel like I'm practicing to be 103 years old and I just have to lie down for a bit. And that's okay. All the systems of my body seem to be in working order, and I am coping quite fine with less and less pain medication, which is also good.

I have been brought home baked treats, and been kept good company, both the chatty and the quiet kind, and have even directed a little bit of packing from my bed, which is far more than I expected from this day.

Again, thank you for your prayers and care.
It's going to be a carefully interesting next few weeks for sure.