Detaching from the "house thing"
And actually, this is a two-year story. When I got released from my full-time job 2 years and 3 months ago, almost every decision I made was predicated on keeping my house. That desire came to me strongly, and it felt like the right goal.
My daughter went to college that fall, and my son and I then launched into our many-month journey, or struggle, or whatever you want to call it. He then went to a boarding school for this last school year, giving me time to thoroughly regroup and discover more about who I am and what I want. Right in the middle of his time away, I got the idea to look for a roommate but never found one.
Well, the school year's over and he's now home to stay, with the plan to enter our local high school in the fall. So my sojourn with empty-nesting was temporary.
The thing is, now that the dust has settled, I'm realizing it's time to let go of the house. This really fascinates me. I'm discovering that my heart has shifted on this issue, right when no less than eight townhomes came on the market quite close to where I live now. The realtors I've spoken with are astonished these all opened up at once. I imagine we'll wind up in one of them.
Rather than feeling that this is a defeat, I’m only seeing the positives. No more yard work, smaller monthly payment, scaling back on the possessions, etc. I feel like Mind was preparing me for this step all along. The "look for a roommate" idea served its purpose—which was to reduce the fear I was feeling at that time and to encourage me to be flexible. (Interestingly, several of the folks I interviewed for boarding were spiritual seekers, so I gave out several copies of Science and Health. At the time I thought, maybe that's what this is all about!)
So now I'm detaching from the house, planning what things to keep and what things to let go. I read something over the weekend about detachment on the New York Christian Science Group site: "…What came to me was that as infinite eternal ideas, we can't be attached to anyone or anything. It's not possible! But on the other hand, if we're engaging in the fictional role of a mortal, we'd need lots of attachments. It comes with the territory. A mortal who's not attached would probably be seen as mentally ill. So what to do? I suppose we need to keep our human attachments in line with divine reality and work to move them along channels evolving into infinity."
I told a friend about my growing sense that it was time to move, and she said, "You know, that is a good thing about your house—because I remember you saying a year or so ago that your main goal was to keep your house. So, this shows a total release from the 'house thing' and a receptivity to whatever comes down the pike to represent your home...which, actually, never changes."
Huh. Her comment made me reflect on all the times I've spoken in declaratives: "I'll never leave LA." "I'll never work in Boston." "I'll never give up the house." Famous last words, eh? And I think I'll start seeing those kinds of statements as red flags. Never say never. For me, it's a sign I'm too attached to something, and in the end, if it's too materially based, I'll have to let that go. Maybe the point is not to get attached in the first place.
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