Single Tree

Moving. Holy God. Moving. Words that this activity brings to mind include: interminable, anxiety, memories, entrances, exits, purging, endless, more and less

Packing shit into boxes just keeps happening. When we might think that the end is in sight that just means that the corner of a piece of a room might be complete by the end of the day tomorrow if you can surrender yourself to the idea that you will NEVER use these things that have been covered in dust for the past year and a half; because that is how long it has been since you have even looked at any of this. I am exaggerating… not even a little. But multiply that by hundreds of crevices in this house full of shit that we thought maybe one day we might have a relationship with/look at/be impacted by/read again if only the mood/day/ something so moved you to. 

Yeah. That never happens. 

So with the assistance of many people who care about us A LOT- and who need to follow me around with large garbage bags that could probably hold a small tree I finally relinquish the notion that I need to save that calendar I wrote in almost 10 years ago and I start

Throwing out

Things upon things upon....

And we begin putting baby clothes and toys upon clothes in boxes for organizations like Goodwill and we fill bags – many of which fulfill their destiny in trash cans in the back of my house. We begin to feel badly because maybe we aren’t leaving enough trash cans for our neighbors. We didn’t know that we could visit the trash receptacles as many times as we have in one hour. But it is really time. Time to put one foot in front of the other in front of the other in front of… until this is done, as done as it can be.

And we need a great deal of assistance – of encouragement – to stop thinking – in general – but specifically about all of these things. See – we are sentimentalists. In a pretty huge way. But I am recently divorced and I realize that I have been lugging so many things upon things – upon things around this city for almost a decade and a half. And this will be our first move in many years where we need to ask the father of our daughter to please come and retrieve his things. And that is well – what is the word for what that is - because you know- this relationship has been almost half of our lives. But you move through that peacefully. Because we are ready – as ready as we are going to be.

And your 5-year-old daughter who can read you in a way that no one else ever has knows – without knowing - that you are strong and able and that you are on the right path. And because the universe handed you the precise child that we needed she doesn’t become all that emotional about any of this. She understands that we are moving to a new town for her new school and new experiences and she laughs and sits in boxes and walks with that confidence that you are so grateful for as she sits in the middle of a mostly empty and vacant room with that look on her face that seems to say, ‘Ok, let’s do this. I’m ready. You – mommy are ready.’

So on a night when my ex-husband and his step father come to move the bulk of his things out of this house I am calm. I have prayed before their arrival. We have an activity to keep us occupied which is feeding your daughter dinner. We have prepared for this and all is going smoothly. But I have a moment -- a moment where I feel compelled to manage something.  

Many of us have experienced similar moments, yes?

To control a situation that is doing perfectly fine without us and the preceding 2ish years have prepared us for this hour and you are so proud of yourself. But you feel something that feels like a moment of angst and you feel the need to watch them- to guard something maybe. But your amazing daughter has just finished dinner and without even knowing the magnitude of what she is doing for you – just as your heart is feeling a second of heaviness in memory of almost 20 years of your life – she takes your hand and says, “mommy come upstairs and play with me.” You will never forget that moment. My daughter – with wisdom unknown to her-gives me the very thing that I truly need.

I am moved by a street sign in my new neighborhood. Single Tree. 

Recently while I was out for a much needed run I took a picture of it. I think it says something. Maybe about me. I have always loved gazing at trees. Something about the unique attributes of every one combined with their strength and resiliency needed to deal with struggle - makes me think about the interconnectedness of all things. A few months ago – in the middle of packing and purging and releasing and surrendering I put my hands on a tree and said a prayer and took several deep breaths. It was the middle of the day. I didn’t care. I didn’t care who saw or thought what about this woman who put her hands on a tree and closed her eyes and started mumbling something. I recall that I had actually read about someone who did this before.

And I know that I must keep keeping on; that there are signs that we are in the right place when I can lift my eyes to see. Sometimes the willingness to lift our eyes is the most daunting part.

What does this mean for all of us? Are we all not continuously -- always -- forever moving away from one thing or many things and towards another? I’ve been learning that we are in a constant state of surrender - change – movement. The writer, educator and speaker Brene Brown speaks about simply showing up in life and being vulnerable - vulnerable to whatever is meant to happen. 

If I allow fear to control me than I am risking - what - nothing? 

Is risking nothing easier than growth? Sometimes the mind can play tricks on us and think itself into believing that it is. But that thought is not true. The truth might be that for any of us moving to a new town, getting divorced, amid other monumental life changes is no small feat - but maybe they are just movements - Putting one foot in front of the other and trusting this moment for what it is. We cannot do this alone. Sometimes my brain can think itself into believing that braving the unknown is a one woman operation but that - has never been true. That is not the lesson I wish to impart to my daughter.

What do we want to impart to our children-- that it is alright and even necessary to ask for help from each other, that all of us are part of a larger community - one that can only truly thrive if we join together. What does it mean to be part of a community? How can my daughter - and all of our children feel like they are significant members of our communities?