Letting go hurts

Sometimes it seems that life is just one big process of letting go.  Letting go of what was.  Letting go of the things in your life you once cared about.  Letting go of old relationships and old expectations.  Letting go of your once youthful figure (yea, that's really looking back)  Letting go of your picture of where you live and who comes home for dinner and where you spend your holidays.  Letting go of being a Mom with a houseful of kids to a house with just you and your husband.  Even the dogs are gone.. (boo hoo)

I learned a very powerful lesson from a wise man some years ago who told me if things aren't working, then change your picture.  Create a new picture.  Create a new set of expectations.

This last weekend was a roller coaster of letting go and celebrating what once was.  My siblings and I came together from three different places to help my Mother weed out the belongings that filled  the Vermont house that our family has owned since 1973.  This was originally a second home where we went for holidays and ski vacations.  It became the full-time residence for my parents when they began their retirement.  The memories attached to this house are so rich and so meaningful, I am overwhelmed by them.   I celebrated my 30th birthday here.  There are stories.. oh yes.  There are stories.  There is a classic story of dear friends lounging in a jacuzzi tub, overflowing with bubbles and hilarity.  Yup, that is definitely going back to my younger, svelter self.

My husband and I chose to get married in this picturesque town.  We spent a number of winters in this house when my parents had moved back to their retirement community for the winter.  We shared the house with several other families- teaching our kids to ski and to play board games and to compete in an epic cardboard box derby every winter. We went on tubing adventures in the summer and watched spectacular hot air balloons float by overhead.   The family fun that took place in this house does not get much better.  As I sit here and remember, I am filled with such gratitude that I could have been so blessed to have such warm and wonderful memories.  It's not really the house is it?  It's the house as a vessel to shape and contain the memories.

There were other memories that transported us this weekend.  We discussed who should take a special chair.   It's a solid chair that has stood the test of time.  My Mom asked us if we remembered where it once sat in our childhood home in Massachusetts.  None of us remembered until my Mom reminded us that it sat in our "telephone room".  What?  You heard me right.  We once had a special room for talking on the telephone.  It was right off our front hall and was really nothing more than an oversized closet with a small desk and a solid chair.  This is hard to comprehend in the world we live in today.  It is hard to imagine going to a special room to talk on the phone.  But these are some ancient memories here folks.

I can't say that I miss having a "telephone room".  But I do miss those wonderful family weekends with the games and the skiing and the fabulous meals.  I miss the weekends when we came together with many combinations of friends and family.

Is there a graceful way to let go?  I'm not sure. My strategy, as in most emotion-laden circumstances, is to cry my way through them.  I did plenty of that this weekend and it's not over yet.  But I aspire to let go gracefully.  I aspire to embrace what is next.  I aspire to jump into the next chapter, the next place where memories will grow.  Anyone want to join me?

Me and My Health Club.. Not So Much

This is the ultimate "Remember What You Know" post.  The irony is not lost on me that the title on my blog is living out loud today.  Why can't I remember what I know?  What keeps me from knowing deep down inside the most important stuff?  Why can't I remember how good I feel when I actually get out and move my body.. these aging, worn out bones.  Seriously.  What is the deal??

Let's take this story back about 5 months.   That would coincide with the beginning of the endless winter that those of us in New England have endured. The snow began to fly early and just simply did not let up.  The drifts outside my house in Vermont are still about 5 feet high. For some weeks, I chided my fellow New Englanders for complaining about the snow and the cold.  "Buck up", I said.  We chose to live here.  So let's get out and enjoy it.   But let's face it.  It's really hard to get out and enjoy this part of the world when the temperature hovers below zero and the snow does not let up. I must acknowledge that there are the young and energetic and hearty folks who are not deterred, who are out there no matter the weather.  But there are also lots of us who are more easily put off.

This post was inspired by a visit to my health club today where I actually exercised.  Can you hear the virtuous tone in my voice?  I actually exercised!  I got in the pool which is my exercise of choice and I stretched and panted and did my thing.   I had threatened to do this multiple times over the last month or so but every time, I found some way to talk myself out of it.  How lame is that?  What is my problem?    How can I leave my office with the conviction to head straight to the health club and then simply turn off the road at my usual exit to my apartment.  Somehow the promise of a glass of wine and some mindless, dumb TV show seems to trump my original plan.

This voice, by the way,  is probably the same voice that lets me down when I am trying to give up sugar or stop drinking diet coke.  This is a voice known to many of us.  But sometimes, the benefits are not as obvious.  I mean, I really love the refreshing taste of a diet coke in the afternoon when my energy flags.  So giving it up feels like something that is probably good for me but the benefits are a bit invisible.

Not so with working out.  The benefits are so immediate and so startling that I can't understand how I can talk myself out of it.  Believe me, I will talk myself out of it again and again.  I will put it off and rationalize why something else is more important. I will choose sloth and wine and stupid TV.

But I do yearn to find the secret to keep myself motivated.  To keep myself moving.  I am encouraged with the change in season as that does add a spring to my step. I know that in the summer, I do move more.  I love the pool, the pond, the ocean.  I love walking in the woods and working in the garden. It's the long, cold winter that conspires against me.

I admire those friends in my life who have found the discipline and the motivation to keep moving, no matter what else is going on.  My hat is off to you.  I celebrate your resolve and your conviction.  Feel free to share your secrets with me.  Perhaps we can walk together or swim together,  or maybe we can just spend a quiet evening drinking wine and talking about how good we feel when we move.  That works too.