Surfing

Three weeks ago I was in a hospital room with my mom and my siblings as we removed the life support keeping my father alive.  It was just me and my mom when my dad took his last breath.  My mom's love for my dad has always amazed me.  Her strength is something beyond my understanding. She was a warrior in love.

The funeral was six days later.  My mom guided the decisions as asked if there were objections.  I appreciate my family all working together and respecting each other so much that the process was "easy."  My dad had a proper funeral and burial.

While my heart is at peace with my father's passing, I am far from at peace with the prospect of losing my husband, my mom, or my children.  I will be the one to guide the decisions and need to be the warrior.  I'm simply not ready and it was made even more clear last week when a high school classmate lost her husband suddenly and unexpectedly.

Intellectually, I am aware that a person does not die when it is convenient or when all the loved ones are ready.  Such a time does not exist.  We each make our peace at our own pace.  The heart of subtraction due to death is not an art.  It is not methodical.  It is raw and vulnerable.  I don't have the answers.  I can't apply a solution.  I have to surf the emotional waves as they come.  Sometimes I crash and burn with a face full of sand.  Sometimes I'm sure the tunnel is going to collapse.  Sometimes I can ride with the sun in my face.  Sometimes.

Clutter Comes in All Forms

This minimalist gig is far bigger than I imagined when I started.  I thought I'd get rid of some stuff in the house, pair down my wardrobe, have some clean surfaces, and be good.  I learned relatively quickly that it is an ongoing process to keep the clutter out and the surfaces clear.  I then began to learn that busyness was a form of clutter and started to simplify my schedule.  I enjoy a slower pace of life.  It's probably the hardest thing for people to understand because society has taught us to find worth and importance by how much we have to do.  We are not allowed to simply say no to something.  Rather we are required to list off every stinkin thing on our to-do list to justify that we are indeed too busy to say yes to a request.  The poor folk who are incapable of saying no, even when their to do list is longer than the day has hours, are totally overwhelmed.  I get to save my yeses for things I really want to do and will bring me joy. I may struggle at times with societal guilt, but I'm working on that.

I'm also finding that I'm minimizing my words.  It's not something I've read about or even a goal I've set for myself. I think it's a byproduct of simplifying life in general.  I'm realizing that people don't need the whole story in order to understand my simple answer to a question.  If they want more info they will ask.  I rather sound like an imbecile at times as I sensor myself and that's okay.  I'm living in the moment and long answers usually involve the past.  Simple is better.

Clutter also involves all the negative self-talk and worry that rattles around in my thoughts.  This is my area of focus during my recovery time from surgery.  I don't feel well and that leads to a lot of negative thinking.  I have been working on accepting compliments, combatting negative self-talk with affirmation statements, and putting worry to rest by staying in the now and accepting what I have control over.   It's challenging, but like the rest of my minimalist progress, it's worth it.

Before and Now

I'm glad I got that little post done so I can keep the stone rolling and write more.  I've been thinking about the benefits I've been experience because of minimizing.  First thing, when I received the call from my sister that my dad was in bad shape I left, immediately.  I did not worry about things that needed to be done before I left or during the 4 hour drive to the hospital.  I was focused on my sister, my dad, my mom, and my brother.  I was fully present to be a support and surf the emotional waves of his last days.

Before minimizing I would dream of having a maid, a chef, a gardner.  Now I have time and enjoy cleaning my house, preparing fantastic meals, and building my know how to have a garden.

Before minimizing I was paralyzed by decision fatigue when choosing what to wear any given day.  Now I joyfully select from my capsule wardrobe and feel fantastic.

Before minimizing I would shame myself for the excess I had, yet continue to add to it because I believed the consumerism messages that stuff would make me happy.  Now I happy with what I have and am able to selectively choose to purchase only those things that I will use often and love.

Before minimizing I wasn't very hopeful about what the future held.  Now I am free to dream and take action, now, to make progress to achieve those dreams.

Now I have more joy, more hope, more dreams, and more love.  Now is great.

Rolling Stones

I started a post numerous times over the last week.  My dad passed last week and my son moved into his own place.  As I'm processing these subtractions, I am preparing for surgery that will have me out of commission for 8 weeks.  I will not be able to do my chores, cook meals, or drive.  It turns out I'm just as guilty as the next person of finding my worth in what I do - homemaking.

I have a list of things I would like to have done before next week.  I look at them and there is a heavy weight keeping me from moving.  I'm pretty sure I could label the weight grief.  If I can manage to get something small done, the ball starts to creep and I start getting some things done.  Here's to rolling stones.