By Martha Randolph Carr
There
are a lot of TV shows these days devoted to helping us get rid of the
general clutter in our lives. It has been pointed out that American
attics and closets are packed with stuff we haven’t looked at in years.
There are even rooms in our houses that could be used for guests or a
home office that are teeming with clothes that no longer fit or
appliances missing a needed part. We keep those doors firmly shut,
unwilling to face the aggravation or the anxiety. We’re reluctant to
sort through any of it to see what someone else might be able to use,
what could be recycled or what is ready for the trash.
All of
it is a marker for the place in our lives where we got stuck in an
emotional quagmire and stopped dead in our tracks. Some part of us
knows it too. We didn’t always insist on keeping the recliner that no
longer stays upright. At some point we got a good jolt from an illness
or a job loss or the loss of a loved one and we got tired of seeing
anything go out the door. Letting objects pile up became easier than
facing the accumulation of pain and the fear that maybe misfortune
wasn’t done with us yet.
It didn’t matter that we were still
paying a nice-sized mortgage on a house that suddenly had less useable
square footage. It was as if we wanted the size of our living quarters
to match the reduced size of our hearts.
But the price we pay
for gathering so much hurt and pain is that we never quite leave the
grieving process behind and move on to a new life. Our arms are still
so full with the remnants of what was that there isn’t any room for
something new to take root. Even worse, we have begun to believe the
lie that says even the resemblance of the life that we knew is better
than taking just one more risk if we can’t have a guarantee of success
right up front.
However, if we could know that things would
always work out then so much of life’s rewards would not be as sweet.
Getting knocked down really hard and trying just one more time is the
most courageous thing human beings do and we do it more than once in a
life that is well-lived.
It’s true that setting out without
knowing what even the next day will bring to us sometimes requires
enormous amounts of optimism in the face of tragedy and trust in
something bigger that we may feel hasn’t been listening to us very
much. And yet, at some point we try anyway because as long as we’re
here on the planet we want to believe that the good can still outweigh
all the rest. Miraculously, it does as long as we’re willing to keep
trying.
So, what’s needed is that first small step in the
direction of a life we may not recognize for a long time and here it
is. Start with the piles in your house and let go of anything you
haven’t used this year. No pondering the ways you might use something
in the future. There is a bigger goal at hand and that old sewing
machine and jeans that don’t fit are getting in your way. Hold a giant
yard sale and put prices on each item that’s guaranteed to have it
sailing off to a new home. Donate whatever doesn’t sell and throw away
items that no longer serve anyone, including you.
What you
might find out is that with each item that leaves some piece of your
heart acknowledges that what you’ve been trying to fix is a part of the
past and its okay that it didn’t turn out the way that you had hoped.
Your focus will stop being splintered between a past that can’t be
changed and a future you can’t control but instead will settle into the
day that is yours to try out something new. More adventures to follow.
©2008
Martha Randolph Carr.
Martha Randolph Carr’s latest book, A Place to Call Home is available wherever books are sold. If you’d like Martha to come and speak to your group visit: www.newvoicespeakers.com. Author’s email: Martha@martharandolphcarr.com or visit http://www.martharandolphcarr.com
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