Impermanence

I feel sad.  I am moving from where I have lived the past ten years, and looking through all the old stuff is bringing back a lot of memories.  Since God is a practical joker–and likes to teach through apparent bad luck–I have simultaneously gotten a bed bug infestation, and am having to weigh what to bring and what not.

I am leaving virtually all that connects me to the childhood of my children–their blankets, stuffed animals, their artwork, and even their bed.

And pondering all this, it occurs to me that the essence of letting go is opening to new possibilities.  If you remain attached to the past, this is tantamount to saying that your best years are behind you.  It is a regression, a choice of decline.

Where I was concerned, my children had very happy childhoods, fulfilling, nurturing childhoods, and they know and appreciate this.  They are both wise beyond their years.

For my part I look at, say, an piece of artwork that I had thought lost, and feel happy finding it.  Then I recollect that all that is gone.  They are gone. That child that painted that is gone, never to be again, although I may one day get glimpses of it again in a grandchild.  Who I was then, thankfully, is also gone.  I have evolved.  I have worked very hard, and seen good results.

So in the spirit of Tibetan butter art–which they create, then melt–I am going to burn my favorite drawings, in the name and in the spirit of embracing all the good things, and all the learning, which is yet to be.

I am finding that you can choose courage.  You can choose to face an unknown future calmly, and even with acceptance and grace.  You can choose to be fully human.

Edit: those pictures still make me happy in the present, so I decided to keep them.  They are the open musings of happy children, and that is an energy worth recollecting for all of us.