I've lived in Transition's Pocket this summer, and am in the midst of great change about what it means to me to love and let go.
These are skills I have let get stiff and rusty. The House is off on a new adventure, and I watched the family home get smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror. The last time I was there, we said our goodbyes, the house and I, and I thanked her for the indelible memories, and accepting what is.
It seems silly to me not being able to let go of what the house represents, but the summer of reflection has helped. I will take up the anchor and place it in the center of my house and let it be the place everyone comes, because they are connected to the traditions and laughter and love of family. I don't feel old enough to be the Matriarch, but the idea has taken root.
When I was about 8, I was brought a baby bird that had fallen out of the nest. I was cautioned that most baby birds do not survive, but I was excited and started off focused. The rules then were to feed it every hour with an eye dropper - a complicated combination of water and protein that had to be mashed up by hand. I started off great but as my eyelids grew sleepy, the next thing I remember is the morning came and the little bird was cold.
My mother said not to feel bad, that I had tried my best. But I knew that wasn't true. If I had only stayed awake the baby bird would still be alive. What my mother wisely let me discover was that in life sometimes we have good intentions that fall short, and sometimes we don't get our way. We carry on, we get over it, and that is life.
I am exploring how to be a new kind of matriarch, and apply that to love and my key relationships. We don't always get the endings we want, but without acceptance there is no hope for balance. I have been exercising my heart muscle and exploring open handed love, that is, putting my head in a place where my heart can express love and support, empathy and kindness without the expectation of anything in return.
It still feels lop sided to give not expecting to receive, to give even when nothing comes back time after time. The want is still there. But as my heart limbers up and gets into practice mode, the want is replaced by a new landscape. I still straddle those disappointing feelings but that is my hard work ahead, to find a rise on the hill where no matter what my conduct can be true to open handed love.
This summer, I realized with a capital R that I was wrestling with and internalizing other's devotion to me and using that as a markers of self worth. As I adapt to emotional altruism, it becomes more apparent that the more I give open handedly, the Hows and Whys and Whens melt away. What is left is the love itself, expressed in an unconstrained way. No pencils required.
