I like my surroundings tidy. I was not always that way. I still am not as tidy or fastidious as many people, but I get more averse to clutter as the years go by. Perhaps this is because of the accumulation of loss and my ongoing initiation into grief. And this is not a testimonial to the superiority of tidiness, just something that is occurring for me. My experience is only mine, nothing more, nothing less.
Learning to let go is being amplified and reflected in me and around me.
Letting go creates space for me to breathe and feel in.
I think about forgiveness and how I am learning that often it is not an act of hanging on, but letting go, releasing becomes a blessing.
What we cling to holds us captive, especially when it is no longer meant for us.
That is hard. That kind of giving of freedom to another. Letting them set sail. Watching them go toward and then beyond the horizon.
Letting things move on and past us when it is time is a sacrament. Listening to the echo of the love, and knowing that that love is not lost but arriving in a new place, a distant shore, is to honor it and hold it.
Maybe it is not really tidiness I crave, but to simplify it all down to what is essential, so I can focus and fully love what is here and beautiful in this moment, and all the moments that are meant to be, until the next bon voyage.