Under Construction
A few months ago, for several weeks, my house underwent a little sprucing up in preparation for selling it. These ministrations included raising the ceiling in the master bedroom, plastering five ceilings, refinishing the floors on one of our living levels and installing new counter tops.
Overall, we had a punch list of relatively minor items throughout the house, rather than a singular big project. Ironically, this proved far more disruptive than cordoning off a section of the house, as we did a bunch of years ago when we dormered the upstairs.
During our "under construction" phase, we essentially lived out of two rooms, with access to the kitchen and bath, but even the kitchen had been stripped down, so we basically used the sink, refrigerator and occasionally the stove. For the floors to be refinished, we stacked all of the furniture from five rooms on our enclosed porch. Then, one morning, we packed up our four cats and essentials and moved into a 357 sq. ft. apartment, with limited internet service.
Turns out, I loved living in that little apartment. Despite its absurd size, the storage nooks and crannies, plus the fab semi-urban location suited me perfectly. Maybe it's simply the change of scenery that I enjoyed.
During that time, my coach reminded me of a truth I'd heard before: "You don't notice that your eye sight is going until you go on vacation." As we travel through our regular day to day life, our mind fills in the blanks, where there would otherwise be fuzzy edges. We know what to expect, and that's what we see. When we go some place new, the reference points disappear. We begin to notice the blurry signs, different colors, and gain a sense of clarity.
It occurs to me, then, how very important it is to shake things up every now and again. Consider the last time you moved, changed jobs, experienced a new relationship, took a vacation, anything that truly created space to change what you were seeing. I invite you to remember, both the differences and what stayed the same. You've probably heard the adage, "Wherever you go, there you are." I believe part of the beauty of switching things up occasionally results from realizing what we carry with us.
Using my construction example, when we first gathered the cats and our essential belongings to move, we had to act quickly. Our floor sanders, expected after noon, arrived at 9am with less than ten minutes notice. This required some speedy critical thinking to determine what necessities to pack. Even that one incident, invited us to see how much we usually carry with us, and how light it feels to leave it behind.
For those four days, we lived a minimalistic life, and enjoyed it. I suspect, if we moved in permanently, we would quickly fill every corner of the space with stuff, because that's the habit. But having the bare bones experience allowed us to know that we truly don't need the space or the materialistic items we ordinarily view as essential. It opened a doorway to change the pattern. So, when we moved to our new house, I only brought what I thought we'd use, with the lesser used items stored in the basement (and perhaps moving toward the trash bin).
If we take this same principle and apply it to what we metaphorically carry with us - our limiting beliefs about self and others, our expectations of how we will be treated, our firm knowing that what we've experienced before is the way things always shall be - if we give ourselves the space to leave those beliefs behind, even for a short while, what's possible in that space? Do we look for ways to fill it back up with the same old junk? Or do we take a moment to recognize what's different - that, in fact, we can be different if choose to be. We have the power to be different in relation to our experiences, it's simply a choice, but to know that, you may need to experience a little construction first!
How to do that without tearing your house apart? Allow yourself to experience something fresh and new. If you need to shake up the apple cart a little, do something you've never done before or hire someone who nudges you to stretch beyond your comfort zone. Take a workshop and allow yourself to be vulnerable to the unknown or go on an adventure, different from any vacation you've done in the past.
If "wherever you go, there you are," who and how would you like to be there?
With love and fresh perspective,
Joanne Lutz