Creating space

I've had a bit of a revelation, and I'm feeling the need to put the words down here, to remind myself.

I've been finding the process of packing difficult.  This, after two whole afternoons after work spent on packing up the glassware and china in the dining room.  That is, making a mere dent in packing up the glassware and china in the dining room.  I've been discouraged because I thought it would only take me two afternoons to do the whole room.  I've been discouraged because it has been very difficult to sort out what to pack and what to give away.

First, it's a process of letting go of guilt.  I may indeed love the person who gave the wedding gift, but if it's not something we do use or can use then I can get rid of it without having it mean that I'm evil or heartless or unloving.  Maybe that's easy for some people, but it is difficult for me to let go of things that I think I should keep.  Also, our little family has suffered a great deal of loss of loved ones, and I have to really separate that love and caring for those people from the need to keep everything physical thing that they left behind in my care.

Next, it's a process of being real about the life we lead, rather than stocking up for a life I somehow wished we led.  Seriously, I blame Martha Stewart.  Well, you know what I mean.  I have all these things that could look so adorable in a display or at a party or or or -- or in some kind of time and space where we just don't live.  My life is not a magazine photo shoot waiting to happen, so I really don't need the kind of archives of housewares that I currently own.

Anyway -- the revelation.

It just occurred to me what making space will do.

Making space in our new home will mean that I can see, appreciate, and use the things I do have.  It will mean that there will be less to clean, and store.  It will mean some visual space, and peace, and quiet.  (THIS is a huge departure for me, to embrace that idea.)  Creating space will spark creative space -- in time, in energy.

So tonight I should be able to start putting things into the "giveaway" box with more frequency and less angst.  Hurray!

Perfect

And so he moves on.

Dean's graduation was the ideal ending to a wonderful 10-year experience. The event was outdoors, on a mild, bright spring evening. Rather than endless speeches from self-important adults, each graduate took a few minutes to share some aspect of his or her experience -- Dean spoke from his heart about how much not only learning how to read, but learning how to love reading, has meant to him. One girl sang, several read poems. Then, the teachers took turns reading short poems written for each student.

Just the kind of celebration, and culmination, one would wish for.

Sweetness

I miss him when he's away, and I miss this little self of his that's grown up so much, so quickly.