Monday, July 27, 2009

Downsizing

I am in the process of moving--- again. I have moved many times in my life, particularly in certain periods. My move previous to this one was when I returned to Canada from Minneapolis a little over two years ago. My current residence is in a new suburban neighborhood-- it is the lower suite of a house that was brand new when I moved in. It is a nice space, but I don't need 4 rooms at this point in my life, and I want to be closer to downtown Vancouver.
I also do not want to live alone. I have found a very interesting situation--I am going to be moving into the home of a 86 year old woman, whose husband died a few years ago, and who also does not like living alone. This will be quite an adventure, and perhaps a challenge after living alone for some time. There is an additional twist to this, in that my new roommate, Gloria, is Francophone. She does speak English as well, but her main language is French. My French is basically non-existent. However, since first moving to Canada 20+ years ago, I have had the desire to learn French, and so now is my chance. Everyday life will be like being in French immersion school. I will write more on that later. But today's topic is downsizing.


Even though I have moved often, I have still been an accumulator, having far more stuff than I need. I have hauled much of this on my journey, always letting go of a certain amount each time moved, but managing to accumulate again. Books, sewing and knitting materials, clothes and CD's have been particular downfalls for me.


In my Positive Aging workshop program, I have a unit on "Clearing the Debris" which is more about spiritual and emotional housecleaning, but I think this needs to cover the area of material baggage as well. In our consumer oriented society, most of us have too much stuff. Our current recession was fueled by greed and grasping for more of everything. Our environmental crisis means we need to learn to live more simply. But getting there is not easy.


I have been donating books and other things, selling furniture on criagslist, and I had a Moving Sale last Saturday. My goal is to reduce my possessions by about 70%. I feel lighter already. I am letting go of projects I know I will never get finished, books I haven't read, and clothes I haven't worn for some time. I have some struggle with the guilt that I spent the money to buy these things in the first place, but holding on to them does not change the situation. I realized that I bought and paid for them, so I can dispose of them as I wish. I am trying to keep from putting things in the dump. Instead my goal is to get these things back into circulation so others can use them.


Downsizing is a very spiritual process. I am making room for more good things in my life, and releasing things I no longer need. That includes resentments, hurts, losses, and possessions. I want to be free to live and to love.


Maggie Rose

Thursday, June 4, 2009

My 70th Birthday Manifesto


I celebrated my 70th birthday in February 2009, and found it more challenging than I had expected. It just took a little longer be comfortable with than I had expected. On the day itself I decided to write down the beliefs I wanted to take with me into the next phase of my life. These are my beliefs, the ideals I try to embody. Some days I do better living by them than others. They are in no particular order. You will recognize some of them as coming from other sources.


I posted them on my bathroom mirror, and they do help me shape my days. I am grateful for the years I have spent arriving at a place where these are my values.


You may want to try writing your own.


  • I choose faith over fear.
  • I live in a continued state of gratitude for all I have been given.
  • My purpose in life is to be of service to others.
  • I choose being loving over being right.
  • I compassionately allow others to follow his/her own path.
  • I rejoice in the good fortune of others.
  • I never wish for or intentionally do harm to others.
  • I have faith in the Ultimate Goodness of the universe.
  • I accept that suffering is a necessary part of life.
  • I never take things personally.
  • I think before I speak, and speak only in love.
  • I do not have to be the center of attention.
  • I know that I am never alone; loneliness is something I create.
  • I create something of beauty every day.
  • I am not afraid of making mistakes or looking like a fool--- it’s the privilege of age.
  • I try to embrace humility—seeing myself as one among many, neither better nor worse than other people.
  • I believe in the unity of all Creation, and work to unite rather than divide.
  • I give my best to the world and don’t hide my God-given gifts.
  • I care for my body-- its the only one I have.
  • I believe in abundance, not scarcity.

Monday, June 1, 2009

The Sand Castle

A crowd was gathering midway down the pier late in the afternoon on a beautiful Sunday afternoon at White Rock beach. Some had their cameras out. Others were shouting directions to children, down on the beach below the pier. “Come, Brandon James! Now!” But the child doesn’t want to leave. Not now.

A magnificent sand castle had been constructed earlier in the day. The tallest tower bore the darker color of still-damp sand, while the lower towers, walls and houses had lightened in the hot midday sun of this cloudless day.

Who were the builders? I do not know. Having completed their work on the castle fit for an Arthurian tale, they may have long since packed up their pails, shovels, and shaping tools, and gone home or on to other endeavors. At least there was no obvious evidence of the builders in site.

A circling platoon of children, self-appointed sentries, clad in bathing suits and sunglasses, were shouting warnings to those who might come to close. Once the new arrivals were properly vetted by the sentries, and were accepted as friendly they were allowed to join the growing patrol around the castle.

At the time I arrived upon the scene, the castle was at the edge of a small waning peninsula attached to the shore, which the incoming tide was quickly making an island. The water was still several feet from the castle, but moving quickly toward the uneven moat that completely surrounded the complex.
I joined the onlookers on the pier, some who stopped for a few minutes and then moved on, and others who were settled in for the duration of the coming inevitable destruction.

Two small boys were madly splashing water in the opposite direction with both hands and feet. Others were playing in the nearby water oblivious to what was about to happen to the castle.

Soon the water was creeping into the moat, first on one side and then the other. As the waves splashed higher, one of the houses built on the wall was knocked from its precarious foundation.

A loud “Ooooh!” came from the onlookers. A little girl grabbed her shovel, attempting to reinforce a place where the wall was leaking, with shovelfuls of sand.

Oh, no! There go two more houses and a chunk of the wall. The moat is full and the waves higher. I’ve been watching for nearly ten minutes, and I find myself thinking I should continue my walk. The castle is doomed anyway. But then I realize it’s not about the castle at all. The real event here is the crowd engaged in it together. I decide this is much more fun than continuing my walk which I can do any time.

Amazingly, not a single child decides to help the destruction along with a kick or shove. All stay a respectful distance as piece by piece, the complex falls. The waves are now eroding the foundation of the three towers, and the first one collapses.

Oooooh
!

Now there is little left of the intricately built arch, and another tower falls. Meanwhile the water is up to the knees of the smaller children, as the water fills the area cutting off the small island of the castle from the land.

The last tower stands surrounded by a pile of sand, and then it crumbles. A small mound of wet sand is the only remnant of the hours of work our unknown architects. Parents take wet, sunburned children by the hand, or pick them up in their arms. Pails and shovels are gathered up, and there are a few wails as the children give up their watch. Now it is over.

....Until the next sunny day and another crew of builders arrive.