Gouache on paper, May 2010
In three days, I’m moving out of what’s been home for a year. The place is empty now–save for some “basics” that I can’t pack just yet.
Interesting to see what we hold on to last– some out of need, and some out of perceived need.
The obvious “basics” are food and clothing, but are they really? I noticed I’ve stopped refilling my fruit bowl and ref crisper for over a week now. Has food become less pressing a concern?
A curious contender has been my wall art: posters, quotes, cards. Some my own, most by those I admire. I’ve come to call on them as friends, and many times during my one year of living alone, they’ve kept me company on lonely nights. There was a true hesitation in saying goodbye when I took them down, but for some reason I know I won’t be putting them up again.
When goodbye feels right, and we concede to it–or better yet, embrace it–we don’t necessarily “lose” something. We clear the way for that which is free from emotional attachment or agenda. We are not distracted, we hear ourselves, and if we proceed truthfully, we hear others too.
When all goes well in our lives–no hang ups, no loose ends to tie, no big goal or duty to give ourselves to– what happens? What remains? Maybe it’s not a question of what is left behind, but of what pushes forward, what persists?