One Move to the Other

I moved last week. 

When everyone left, I sat in the only chair I had surrounded by boxes.  Some were open, some taped close.  Some were broken down with the contents scattered about looking for the right place to settle in.  I was excited to open them all.  I have entered a change, a new direction, another opportunity to fly.

I looked at the bare walls wondering what and where I should hang things.  I wondered where I was going to put everything in my kitchen.  Pots and pans in this cupboard, or maybe the other one would be best.  I wondered why do I have so many shoes.  I wondered where I was going to put everything I have.  The one thing I didn’t have to wonder about is, I’m right where I am supposed to be, doing exactly what I am meant to do.  Doing what I am at this very moment. 

All that I’ve worked so hard for has come to me a hundred-fold.

Then, for some reason I found myself thinking about when I moved into disability.  How that move filled countless boxes of fear, anger, anguish, sadness and so much more.  I had no idea which box was which, or which one needed to be opened first.  I wondered how I was going to get beyond feeling like a broken-down box.  I wondered where I was going to put everything that had suddenly rushed into my life. 

Like it or not, I had to unpack the boxes.  The open ones overflowed with things I didn’t want to know about.  I didn’t want to have to learn how to do things all over again.  I didn’t want to try to figure out where to put me.  I only wanted to throw away all the horrible things that filled those boxes.

I had to find places to put things that terrified me, but where and how?  I didn’t understand what they were, how to unpack them, why it happened in the first place (there’s that why question again).

I didn’t want to see what was inside the unopened boxes.  Knowing that if I did, the trauma I was going through would escape and grab me by the throat.    

In spite, I did open those boxes and even though there were a lot of scary things in them, they led me to the amazing place I am now.  My move to disability had to be done, I had to live in that shitty apartment for a while – well, a lot longer than I liked.   

Now, with what I’ve experienced and learned, I’m redecorating my life, knowing I have the strength to do it.  Knowing that I am strong, determined, and have the courage to wrap my wings around myself, look to the sky, spread them, and let the wind carry me to even greater things I know lie ahead. 

The items I’ve unpacked since last week are beautiful.  I have delicate things, things that are meaningful, those which give me joy, those filled with memories of the glorious life I have.  The one most important thing I unpacked was – me.

So, as I sat there in my only chair, overwhelmed with emotion on how far I have come, I started to pack a box.  This one will contain each and every moment of the never-ending joy I have in my life.  And, I will take it with me everywhere I go.

(I’m honored to have my friend, Sue Moll Malin, share the beautiful photo for this blog. Thank you, Sue.)