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| The View from our new home |
Up until now, I had been taking the damage limitation road to moving out. Taking the plaster off real slow has been the course of action, so anyone observing would be forgiven to believe that progress has not been made. The truth of it though, is that all my cupboards are now bare, bar the essentials to live.
Trips to charity shops, and recycling centre have been actively pursued and my new home across the river is starting to feel more and more like home, especially since my books have taken residence on the lovingly made shelves my husband created.
The reason for taking our time had been mainly for the cats. God forbid we disturbed their cosy little set up! But as explained in my last post, one of them was old and blind, to move everything at once would have been too upsetting for him and I did not want his remaining days to be distressing. At least this is what I had told myself, but as time went on, I was forced to accept that this move has been more painful than I would have initially admitted and my cats had made a convenient excuse for taking my time.
Don't get my wrong, I have been excited for new beginnings and I acknowledge my fortunate position to have a new home to go to, but as time passed, so too did my grief for what has been. It passed through in waves and as we reached crunch point of no return I was having to take stock on how to move forward without becoming a moody ungrateful emotional wreck, until one night last week after a full on meltdown, came my epiphany.
The solution was found in my Rituals; We go about life automatically, from one task to the other without giving anything much though other than to get the job done. I could have taken the decision to move everything in one go. The cats gave me a reason not to do this. But the truth of the matter was that I had not been ready for people however helpful and well-meaning, to move my possessions.
It was not as I first thought, about dismantling my home of 20 years, though of course this also felt sad to me. But it was more about the taking away of belongings by friends and family who may not have appreciated the ritualistic element to my process of clearing out my home that I had adopted since the day I began my transition across.
So far, with every phase of my move, I had taken time alone to methodically clear out each cupboard and shelf space being mindful of what I kept and what I do not. Items that are staying with me I took time to wash, clean and dust before getting packed away. This all may read as rather anal, even obsessive behaviour, but it is much more than that.
As I sorted through things, memories of each item came to mind and as I cleaned, I gave thanks for the times spent here and after each area was cleared, I then cleansed and blessed the space left behind. It helped me to release and let go, knowing that everything that I take with me will also be given a fresh lease of life.
Now that all of the small stuff is done, I will be needing help with the bigger items. My husband is strong but I am not, so it makes sense to enlist help from friends. The other night while we were discussing the next steps, rather than explaining what was important to me, I snapped. To be fair, I don't think at that stage I even understood myself why I felt things had come to a head, for everything that I had been doing was on such a subconscious intuitive level, it hadn't even occurred to me to figure out in words what I was doing and why. So when I was knocked off centre by my husband interjecting with offers of help, it was only then, that I came to realise what it meant to me to maintain my rituals. Even in house clearance there can be sacredness, at least for me anyway and so initially I resisted the offer of burly men to enter my home full steam ahead and load the van with my furniture. But on reflection and after some heart-based conversations with my husband, we eventually agreed on a plan of action that would honour my needs and at the same time, get the practicalities done at the same time.
So finally, we have reached the crucible of change where there can be no looking back. Yesterday we had my beloved handsome 18yr old cat put to sleep. He died peacefully at home on my lap as the tears rolled down my face. I cried for the rest of the afternoon, not only for my cat but for my home I will be imminently leaving, but then afterwards, a sense of calm came over me. 'All will be well'.
They say, as one door closes, another shall open and I believe it to be accurate. Already, offers of new work opportunities have arisen and though I am not quite in the place in both mind and in time to accept, the offers are there. I just need to focus on one day at a time.
And by the way, is there anything a bit of white vinegar and a few drops of essential oil cannot clean?!
