I didn’t sleep last night. Thoughts of putting the house on the market were responsible as much as anything else. It is comfortable and the only argument I have with it is upkeep and isolation. But when I get right down to it, that is my body’s problem, too. Giggle.
Right now I need a new dishwasher and oven and extensive deck repair. After that, the nitty gritty of upkeep on the house continues. Cedar siding has issues and large trees on the property require care.
The curtains are so old I dare not have them cleaned and the carpet needs replacing. But it is high quality carpet; I don’t even think you can get it anymore. If so, the price would be high.
Why do I write this? To put it in perspective for myself. I am more emotionally connected to the house than I knew. After Bob died, I redid things in the name of grief therapy. Now the great room is just for me. But there are rooms that don’t get used.
I don’t know why I think I have a choice in whether to move or not. It feels as if it is all up to me, when I certainly know better than that. I am an invention just like my house and I am suddenly caught up in the fear of change.
Change happens. Sometimes it is total upheaval and at other times it is just one more gray hair. Sometimes we notice it and at other times we don’t. If I have learned anything, it is that I have no control over my emotions. They happen and I try to keep them bearable. Most of the time they are.
Yesterday I told my friend T that I keep writing the blog because writing is the one thing that I do well and I enjoy it. Honesty seems to be my forte. It isn’t that I am striving for it; it just happens. So like Leonard Cohen, I “blacken pages” with my inner feelings, many of them chaotic.
Every morning I draw a balloon of white light around me and so far it is working. The meditation is below.
“I am surrounded by a balloon of bright white light the width of a city block so that I can send love and healing to the masses but I am buffered from receiving their stress /tension. I am directed and protected for the next 24 hours.” ~ The White Light Meditation of Betty Bethards