There is no ignoring the sadness any more. No pretending it's not going to happen. The home that was mine for thirteen years is about to find a new owner. Freshly repainted, staged to show, priced to sell, it's got multiple offers, and today is the big day. I get to meet all the prospective buyers and decide.
Last night, I paid one last visit, and remembered the house while I lived there with my daughters, just the three of us. A girls' abode filled with art making, music, dancing, cooking, friends, our two dogs . . . The only house that I have ever lived in and could really call mine. The house the children remember fondly and never completely left. A messy place while we were there, and that was part of its charm. Eight years we lived in the house, the girls and I.
After we moved out to a new home, with my new husband, the old house remained in my name. Tenants came and went, and treated it with various degrees of respect. It gave me comfort to know that it was there, a tangible connection to earlier, happy times with the children. Of course, hidden in that attachment, lied a lot of suffering. This morning, it's hitting me big, the wish for what can no longer be had, and the sorrow about the implacability of time passed.
Impermanence. And nothing to be called mine.
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beautiful thank you
ReplyDeleteNothing to be called yours except good memories.
ReplyDeleteSad... it does look like a beautiful space to have lived in with such joy. Still, I'm a firm believer that all change is good. It brings new open-nesss and possibility.
ReplyDeletePete, not even memories are to be clung to . . .
ReplyDeleteThe other Peter (AtLarge), thank you for the reminder. Closing of a chapter, and opening a new one. The way of life . . .
ReplyDeleteZach, thank you very much for adding me to your blogroll!
ReplyDeleteMetta,
marguerite
I don't think I'll ever quite get the hang of the whole liking and disliking thing as it relates to clinging. It just seems so lifeless.
ReplyDeleteHumm . . . I would love for you to elaborate on what you mean by 'lifeless'.
ReplyDeleteMy take on this, speaking from direct experience is the realization of the unnecessary physical, mental, and emotional suffering every time one clings to the idea of something that no longer is, or is not there yet. A byproduct of deluded mind, that has not yet accepted the reality of impermanence. This does not mean not feeling, to the contrary. Rather it means being aware of everything in one's field of experience (Jon Kabat-Zinne's Full Catastrophe), and investigating it thoroughly moment to moment. Much of what we call being alive is extraneous drama and suffering.
It looks beautiful! Very classy feel to it.
ReplyDeleteI guess it comes back to the fact that nothing is "ours", we're justing managing things for a few years.
I guess I was under the impression that you weren't supposed to like or dislike things, as it relates to equanimity. That is to say, practice to the point of impartiality, where in effect, all phenomena that arises does not result in attachment?
ReplyDeleteYes, Pete, dispassion, disenchantment. Meanwhile, learning to live gracefully with the consequences of greed and aversion (Rumi's poem, The Guest House) :)
ReplyDeleteSunim, nice to have your visit again. I will go over to your blog now.
ReplyDeleteYes, everything just on loan, including our body . . .