Circuit Training

Sometimes life strikes me as a continual circuit of hopes and disappointments, with a minor victory thrown in from time to time, just to keep the optimism from completely expiring.

Is this a morose perspective? I suppose so. On my better days, that sentence might read, “Life is an ongoing adventure of hopes and challenges, ever prodding us on to new forms of optimism.” Victory has nothing to do with it, from this viewpoint. It’s all about the effort.

But perpetual effort can be tiring, don’t you think? Without little victories, the circuit can wear us down, no matter how resilient we may be. We become caught in this flux of energies, which we constantly misplace and rediscover, in varying proportions. Does anyone else ever feel this way?

I have a lovely little house. It is, as my childhood idol would say, “practically perfect in every way.” And I am learning, in increments, to let it go.

Part of moving to Morocco, you see, is selecting someone else to inhabit my treasured domicile while I’m away.  So far, that has been an emotional process.  It requires trust — both in the potential tenant, and in providence, to provide that tenant when the time is right.  Strengthening one’s “trust muscles” can be a gruelling task, especially when one feels interminably caught in Fortuna’s spinning wheel.

This week, though, it occurred to me for the very first time that perhaps my practically perfect house does not exist solely for my own edification. A healing house ought to be shared. Its curative properties need not be hoarded for the benefit of one small soul. My house will be happiest if it is helping others as it has helped me.  And knowing that gives the spinning wheel some meaning and direction.

This new viewpoint doesn’t really change my practical needs. The building still needs to be paid for and maintained. It still needs to be respected and appreciated. And it would be oh, so helpful to my peace of mind if I could meet its new caregivers sooner rather than later.

But as I usher these new hearts into my hearth, I will try to do so with grace and openness rather than skepticism and reluctance.  I will try to let go of the things that bind me to this place, knowing that it is people, not possessions, that bring energy, colour, and life to an otherwise impersonal circle of events.

So please, have another look at my sweet little house, and share, share, share, so I can have the chance to share it, too!