Late yesterday afternoon, time seemed to collapse for a moment.
As I sat in a chair, facing out into the woods, I saw myself more than 12 years earlier, doing the very same thing.
At that time, as now, the house was quiet, and void of the many things – some of which are now packed or sold – that would come to fill it.
That sense of sameness invoked by the view, the spare space, and the quiet, reminded me that the intervening years have not changed my love of this simplicity, my ideas about beauty nor my need for it.
None of this is written in sadness, or fear. Not this time. I feel ready to go. And, that is a tremendous gift.
How many times have I, have you, have we, been pulled unwillingly into the current of change? And in those times, how long has it taken me, or you, or us, to turn from resistance to acceptance? To welcome, perhaps begrudgingly, or even bitterly, what must be.
Of course, I initiated this particular change in order to free my time and resources. And, so, this readiness may bear the taint of luxury. Nonetheless, I have initiated other changes that seemed to come on as rip tides, and I felt alone, far out at sea.
One anchoring quest in all of these transitions has been the search for beauty, the need to find it, and the grace it offers. The connection it makes, for me, to this big, mysterious, sacred world. The gratitude it births.
I have heard, from a wise friend, that gratitude is the opposite of entitlement.
I am not owed any of this beauty, and yet, it is here. It is lavish, like full-hearted love. But I only see it, appreciate it, when I am present. My ongoing prayer is than I remain open and present, especially during times of change, to see what is before me, rather than to see only what is behind.
Beauty can be birthed in the letting go. This has been my experience. There is no reason to believe it will not be so again.