Tag: reset

Cleaning Out

This is probably the longest hiatus I have taken from ASH (Adulting – Second Half) since I started writing her. And so I have also forced that hiatus on to you, my loyal readers. I’m sorry. This summer I have pressed my reset button and I’ve sat on it, like I’ve never really done before. I’ve done a lot of physical, mental and spiritual self-care in a lot of little simple ways involving rest, relaxation, gratitude, massages, reconnections with our friends, enjoying our newly restored pool and deeply reflecting on what we really want in this next stage of our lives. Our grown children are busy in happy ways. They are fulfilling their dreams and so that fills me up. And it inspires me to also dream again.

Starting next week, our kitchen and living area are getting blown up, in order to create something better and new. This summer was supposed to be one of me focused on cleaning out the clutter. “Kelly Kondo.” Hmmmmm. I have cleaned out a lot clutter in my mind, and in my heart, and in my routines. But material clutter, let’s just say that I work better under pressure. I told my husband and myself that finally today was a day without appointments and distractions and so today was the “headway day” of cleaning out the kitchen. And here I am. Writing. Writing a blog post when I haven’t written in at least a month. Sigh. We often are, our own worst enemies.

Someone recently told me something that I have to get written into the archives of this thought museum I call “ASH”. She said this: “I have never seen a hearse pulling a U-Haul.” Facts. I love my things, but I don’t necessarily think that I’m attached to them. The things which I am mostly grateful for in my life, besides my family and my friends, are my experiences, and the memories that come from those experiences, but for me, most of my material things are all tied up into my experiences. I have mementos littered all over my house that remind me of amazing adventures that I have had throughout my life. I delight in the experience of feeling excitement about discovering a knick-knack or a doo-dad or a trinket that stir up feelings in me. Many of my things make me feel happy for reminding me of the experience that evokes those feelings. I love the feeling of anticipation that comes with a load of Amazon boxes in front of my door. I freely admit that, but it is clear to me that my love is for the feeling – not for the actual thing. I love the feelings of security and abundance and nostalgia and joy. I love that many of my things that adorn me and my house, help me to creatively express more of my inner self to the outside world. That being said, I realize that all of the things could be washed away in one of our yearly hurricanes tomorrow, and nothing would be lost, but “the things.” I am the owner/gatekeeper of the feelings, and the memories of the experiences. I am the owner/gatekeeper of the joys and the memories that the things only helped to create. The things are only symbols and tools. And the things are only gone (even after they are long gone physically), when they no longer carry any meaning for me.

On that note, I have a kitchen I need to go clean out . . . .

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

What Color Tonight?

Every year since I started the blog (even for the many years in which I blogged daily), I have taken Easter weekend off from writing. I’ve always considered Easter weekend to be my truest yearly reset button. It makes more sense for the renewal of life to start again, at this spring time of the year. Everything is new and starting fresh and revitalized and hopeful and full of expectation and aspiration. Everything is teeming with life. Springtime is the innocent infancy of another year in our lives.

Our area in the world is known for its beautiful sunsets. Last night, my husband and I, and our dogs, walked down to a local park to watch the sunset. There were more clouds than usual obscuring the sun, but the light rays still shone their ever long bands, into a bluish, yellowish haze. Sometimes the sunset is bright orange and red. Other times it is determinedly yellow until its last final seconds. A woman was watching the sunset with us, and she said that she had to buy more space on her phone, because she has taken so many pictures of the sunsets, on practically a daily basis.

“It’s different every night, isn’t it?” I said to her.

“Yes, and it’s always beautiful.” We both said practically in unison.

This is the case for everything which we do on a regular basis, isn’t it? We think of our everyday experiences and our daily habits as “the usual” or even mundane. We often think of our daily duties, and our traditions and our holidays and our other cyclical, annual experiences as “the same ol’, same old”. And sometimes we sigh with feigned boredom about this fact, but sometimes we also hang on desperately to “the same”, mostly out of fear and a desire to control everything to keep it the same, for reasons of nostalgia and comfort and security. But nothing really ever remains exactly the same. Even us. Especially us. And so, if we are honest and open and big-hearted and compassionate with ourselves, we notice that the “it” of our every single days, is always a little bit different, and yet, it’s always beautiful, in its own singular way.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.