Travelling light and with a limp!

It is a year to the day that we purchased our caravan as a place to live once we had nothing left except our '3 suitcases'. At that time we had no job and absolutely no idea of what the future would hold for us. One day I will fill in the gap of the past year, but today I will just pick up from where we are.

After living for almost a year in the van next to a beautiful Lake, and God having given Cliff gainful employment for the year, it is time to move again. In just 6 days we shall be towing our van with all our belongings and returning to exactly the same house we lived in at Bribie for 5 years. 

It will be the same but different. The address is the same but we are different and return without much of the stuff we had when we left. Not just material possessions, but preconceived ideas and ideologies.

It was an uncomfortable process but we have emptied our hands and our pockets, leaving us freer than ever before to embrace whatever God has in store for the next chapter of our lives.

Last Wednesday I was blessed with the opportunity to climb Mt Walsh. I love the challenge of the climb, and the feeling of accomplishment that reaching the summit affords. More than this though, I love the feeling of being closer to God and the heightened awareness of His presence that being on top of a mountain on my own brings. This time was no exception, and I spent a good couple of hours up there pondering the course of the last year, and perhaps staring off into the distant horizon and wondering about the possibilities of the future.

I sensed peace and hopefulness despite what may come... loss of income, health challenges. I was 'strong enough' to cope with whatever life may throw at me. Then as I went to begin my descent, not even a step off the summit, I twisted my ankle. A loud crack sounded as a sharp pain shot up my leg, and I could have panicked at that moment, but I felt a comforting hand of reassurance that God had it in hand. In the absence of any medic or prayer warrior, I leaned over, and grabbing the offending joint, prayed for it myself. Then I took off my shoes which were a size too big, and most likely the reason I rolled my ankle. 

Two thoughts sprang to mind. 1. Pride comes before a fall. 2. Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. (The latter was the exact same verse that God had given me on my predawn hike up the Bluff and Carnarvon Gorge.)

It was as if God had 'hobbled' me so that I was reminded of my own weakness. Below me was a tricky rock scramble and a couple of hours of steep, unstable hiking before I reached the comfort of my car. I carefully made my way down the cliff face, conscious of the fact that I was relying on God holding me up. It is amazing how much it takes to drive you to prayer at times!  

I was also pretty happy to be reunited with my walking stick at the bottom of the scramble. I put my shoes back on and began the hike back to the car slowly and one step at a time. As I was limping along, I thought about Jacob and the his hip injury that he sustained after meeting face to face with God. It would have served as a reminder to him on a daily basis that God had touched him and changed his destiny. (It was after this that he reconciled with Esau. He couldn't run away with a limp!) 

This past year has been a lesson in learning how much I cannot do! Self-reliance fell out of my pockets along with many other things that the world may see as necessary for survival. I'm still sitting with my swollen and bruised ankle up on a cushion in the confines of my small caravan. Actually it made me very thankful that it is a mere three steps from the bed/couch to the toilet and the kitchen! This physical limp will not last too long, but I am grateful for the spiritual  lesson in relying on Him.
Love this old hymn. It reminds me that despite all change, my foundation is firm.

Leaning on the everlasting arms.

                                                                                                            

A trail of shared experiences.

This month I'm on a sabbatical from the online selling of all our excess; however I am still about the business of downsizing. As I travel to visit family and friends before we head West, I think I am finding my over-stuffed need to be needed is what I am unpacking... one unrealistic self-expectation at a time.

My five children are all happily married and perfectly capable of making their own decisions in life, and although I hope that my grand-kids will love me; I subscribe to thought that 'Grand-parents are an optional extra in life" (Gravy on the meat!) What a blessing to have this month to spend some precious moments cuddling them and being WITH them, instead of merely being IN CONTACT.
It will be wonderful to be on the spot when my next grand baby is born shortly, and I think I will miss them more than they'll miss me.
As I visit each household, I can imagine leaving a trail of breadcrumbs behind me that will one day bring me safely back in proximity to my true 'home', where my heart lives. The photos that I have brought with me are finding their place among the relevant kids...a permanent reminder of things in life we've done together.
We have no idea of how long we may be distanced, or how many trips back we can fit in... but what ever the future holds, I know we blazed a trail that they may choose to follow closely. Even if their paths only cross ours and follow a general direction towards the goal of eternity, I shall be satisfied.

 

1 Corinthians 11:1

Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ.
 

Simplicity takes planning and effort...

A few weeks into the process of downsizing and reducing and I am only just beginning to realise what a HUGE job this is. Yesterday I managed to pack my entire wardrobe (including shoes) into one suitcase. I feel like I have too much still, but have a month of practice 'suitcase living' coming up that will help me settle on the final items.

Today I began the task of planning my 'medium-sized' suitcase. This one is not as easy to figure out as it involves decisions about my leisure time and what crafty pursuits I can take with me. For someone who once made it a goal to learn something new every year, to choose those worthy of this next semi-nomadic lifestyle is not simple at all!

This week has been more difficult for my husband as he is hit with the reality of our choices, sorting through his beloved mancave and shed. Simplifying will cost him a lot... I pray the benefits will be worth it eventually.  

I also spent hours standing near the scanner in order to preserve memories and documents in digital format. It was not a romantic or glamorous occupation! My feet are sore, my nerves feeling a little frayed and I am ready to have a break from it all... and yet impatient to complete the task. 

Of course I had to finish the garden I had newly started before our the crossroad of our circumstances caused us to take this route. In a way it offered its own solution to my stash of collected shells and natural items.A friend reminded me recently, that it is in the process of creativity that we find ourselves. This embryonic garden bears the marks of my love of bush and beach and all the treasures to be discovered on a nature walk. If this is the last garden I create, I'm satisfied that it bears my true-self signature.                                                                              

“We are all in search of feeling more connected to reality—to other people, the times we live in, the natural world, our character, and our own uniqueness."

 

" Our culture increasingly tends to separate us from these realities in various ways. We indulge in drugs or alcohol, or engage in dangerous sports or risky behavior, just to wake ourselves up from the sleep of our daily existence and feel a heightened sense of connection to reality."

" In the end, however, the most satisfying and powerful way to feel this connection is through creative activity."

 "Engaged in the creative process we feel more alive than ever, because we are making something and not merely consuming, Masters of the small reality we create. In doing this work, we are in fact creating ourselves."

Robert Greene

The Memory Shelf... AKA the Pine Hutch

Of all the pieces of my furniture, the one that best represents the changes happening in our family, has been my Pine Hutch. Purchased second hand for the princely sum of $100, it added a sense of continuity and homey-ness to our existence at a time we were temporarily without a home. 

Having sold our second home, and purchased a block of land in a small country town, we were all set to build our 'dream home'. However, that meant we needed to stay somewhere while the dream became reality. Not as easy as we thought considering it was 1988, and EXPO '88 had arrived on Brisbane's doorstep taking ALL the available rentals as far out along the train line as Caboolture... where we were living!

Initially we shared my sister's house. Hubby, me and 5 kids all jammed into a large built-in verandah, alongside my sister, her hubby and 6 kids. As you can imagine, 4 adults and 11 children in one residence did not prove to be a wise decision. We jumped at the opportunity of a tiny, tiny rental house when it became available... only to find out that it was illegally being relet to us. It was actually a Housing Commission rental, and as such wasn't on the normal rental market. We had 4 weeks to find another place of abode.

I am not sure with all this uncertainty what drew me to the purchase of the Hutch. Maybe the images of country pioneering life, and the promise of eventual HOME SWEET HOME?

I loved it from the start, and after what eventuated as 9 months living in a caravan on my Mother's property, and all our furniture in storage (including the Hutch), we were able to set up home again. The Hutch took pride of place in our little dining room, and I filled it with country styled treasures.

We moved to 5 different houses in the next 20 years, and each time the Hutch moved with us. Finding its place in kitchens as a useful pantry, or lounge rooms for mere decoration, and even in a playroom with books, photos and toys as its occupancy.

The last move it made was here to our small rented 'feedlot' half-house. I was so distressed that the dining table and couch would not fit into our small space, and becoming increasingly distressed about the possibility of EVER making this place a home. It was my eldest son, Jonathan, who wisely suggested I make space for one piece of furniture that I loved... the Hutch, and that made all the difference. Once in place with all the familiar items and pretty collection of china and pink glass that I loved, it no longer mattered that we were a bit squished in. It was as if HOME was somehow placed on the shelves amongst those items. 

When I began taking photos to sell my things online... the Hutch was the perfect backdrop as it drew buyers to the same sense of belonging and history. It was no surprise to me that even at a bargain price, it sold for more than the original purchase price. My greatest joy was that it went to live with another family who love it as much as I did.

They are setting up home in an old colonial house and once again the Hutch has pride of place in the dining room. The new owners sent me a message to say how wonderful it looked in their home, and that they were not beyond affectionately 'patting' it on the way past!

BEFORE THE SHABBY CHIC FACELIFT

NOT SO SHABBY BUT CHIC!

I thank my God for all the memories I have of you.

Philippians 1:3

Stops, starts and slips...

The Online garage sale business is proving quite exhausting, both physically and emotionally. Setting up a photo album full of my random bits and pieces and trying to make them look like JUST the thing my viewers need. What price on a piece of my family history? I keep telling myself it is better to move things quickly so that I can clear the deck, and prevent episodes of regret. So I do, and right about tea time the messages start beeping and bomping. (What is the correct terminology for the noise that your iPhone makes when a message turns up?) I have 2 computers running, and the iPhone, and they all make noises at me simultaneously, while I try to eat dinner and Skype with my husband!
For my daughters, I select a couple of heirloom 'symbolic' gifts. Elise, my youngest will receive the Cake serving set, as I see a gift of hospitality and serving others on her life. Besides this is by tradition, passed to the youngest girl in the family. To my eldest, Melinda, I plan to give the silver cutlery set that was my own baby spoon and pusher, emphasizing the nurturing Mother spirit she possesses.
I pick somethings up and am ambivalent about 'listing' them... like the little Royal Doulton egg cups my sister gave me as an Engagement present 36 years ago. Making the decision that I might send them to one of the kids, I take them out to put them in my sorting boxes and drop one! They survived 36 years of breakfasts, holding toothpicks for parties (their main occupation), 5 kids wanting a boiled egg in Mum's egg cup and the occasional grandchild too, and also countless moves. Then a split second's loss of concentration sees one plummet to the ground.(I hope you look after the survivor, Melinda). 
It somehow brings home our own inevitable 'breaking of the set', and I am convinced that our choice to make life happen together, is a a good decision. We just don't know when that slip may occur so best to enjoy our matched status. I am grateful for the 35 years of adventure we've had and look forward to the future.

Remember Him before the silver cord is broken and the golden bowl is crushed, the pitcher by the well is shattered and the wheel at the cistern is crushed; Ecclesiastes 12:6

Prelude

prel·ude  n.

1. An introductory performance, event, or action preceding a more important one; a preliminary or preface.

So it begins...  the process of finding new homes for our collection of 'stuff' that we have added to, refined and re-defined over the last 35 years. I knew it would be a difficult process as my sentimentality begs me to hold on to those precious memories... but what is a memory?
It's not the inanimate object that recalls it to mind and engenders the warm fuzzies. Rather it is the mental images of the times shared, thoughts behind gifts and pride in children's developing creativity expressed in the many things I've kept and displayed to keep them close.
Unlike people who lose everything through natural disaster, I have the option to pre-plan this 'loss' and soften it into a 'letting go'. Reading other blogs discussing what approach those wishing to travel lightly into the next chapter of life have taken, I think I have come up with a few ideas that will mean less regret. A gentle release of objects that will not tear at my heart, because I'm keeping the memory associated with them.
This idea was partly birthed in practicality. How does one diverse themselves of a lifetime of living in this digital era? Online... obviously! I considered ebay (too expensive, and postage on a couch? Not happening!) Gumtree... may be the backup for the larger items... but it seemed to me that the locally based Buy & Sell Facebook pages would bring about the easiest results. That and a Garage Sale (which could also be advertised on said Facebook pages). Step 1 in that process requires me to 'take a photo' to make an ad. This is where my joint plan kicks in. 
Our goal is to only have 2 suitcases each, and our laptops and portable hard drives. So as I 'capture the memories' (nice phrase there) for the ads, I will be able to keep them and plan to write a small memoir of each that has a story I wish my grandkids would be able to know. Might be useful if I ever get Alzheimer's too... "The Notebook" style!
One of the things I read in my research was a comment on the author's realisation that she 'loved every single one of her possessions', and acknowledged that fondness as she 'popped them in a box'. It is alright to like your stuff, and even love it and still let it go... we do it with our kids, it shouldn't be as difficult for something without an actual heartbeat! 
Okay, I'm off to begin the process.