With my first stirrings this pre-dawn morning, the concept
of holding on flooded my consciousness. Do I hold onto things too long or
rather, do I let go of them too soon? As another year draws to a close, I
thought it a fitting subject to ponder.
Today, I made a run to Goodwill. I unloaded three boxes of
clothes that I haven’t worn for years, and a couple of sacks of paperbacks that
I’ll never read. I’ve switched almost exclusively to library ebooks and
audiobooks. The paring down was way overdue and I have a whole garage and
office yet to clean out, but at least I’ve begun.
The impetus for the Goodwill excursion was to unload a nest
of end tables that my late husband and I bought at a garage sale so many years
ago, and that I have never, never liked. It’s early American and it’s my least
favorite furniture style. I have tolerated the visual blight in my living room
for almost twenty years.
A year ago I began the much needed rework of my dowdy townhouse.
I repainted, re-carpeted, and had built-in bookshelves fashioned around my
fireplace. I replaced the worn couch and frayed chairs.
“When are you getting rid of that nest of tables that you
don’t like?” my son asked a few weeks ago. A day later he emailed me some links
to furniture sites and asked me to choose end tables. This Christmas, he and my
daughter-in-law gifted me with two stylish end tables that matched my new decor.
Beautiful!
What a pleasure it was to load that dratted nest of tables
into my car and to dump them at Goodwill. Good riddance!
Why does it take someone else’s initiative – my son’s – for
me to mobilize and let go of what I don’t want?
On the other hand, why am I so quick to get away from
activities that fill my soul? Why do I minimize my meditation time? Why do I
merely glance at a gorgeous sunrise like the one that graced me this morning?
Why didn’t I hold onto its luminous glow, and fully drink in its beauty?
Why do I hold onto superfluous, dreary dross for years and
allow what is meaningful to slip through my fingers?
As I approach the New Year, I don’t want resolutions, but
rather my desire is to notice and decide what I want to dwell on, and what I
want to let go of.
I like how Kenny Rogers puts it so succinctly his classic song,
“The Gambler”:
You’ve got to know
when to hold ’em
Know when to fold ’em
I’m glad I held onto this morning’s pre-dawn musings.
My wish for all of us in the coming year is that we’ll know
when to hold ’em and know when to fold ’em. Happy 2016!
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