Tag Archive | letting go

Finding What I Lost

A silver commemorative coin in the series honoring “Famous Families of Ukraine,” an irreplaceable heirloom.

I am SO grateful today that I found something important which I thought I had lost. It was inconceivable to me that I’d have thrown it out, but… anything can happen. I had done some work for a friend who moved away rather hastily, and I was left with a precious family heirloom and a stack of scanned images, foreign currency, and historical documents. I kept thinking I’d hear from her when she got settled, but that didn’t happen. Time marched on, the precious packet got moved from one place to another and another, I tried to track her down a couple of times, I let it go (the dark side of letting go: its illusory facsimile ‘letting slip’)…. When she finally surfaced six years later (my, how time flies!) looking for these things, I was horrified that I couldn’t find them.

My friend is descended from Ukrainian nobility. One of the worst things I’ve ever had to do, right up there near telling a friend his mother had been killed in a car wreck, was to tell this dear woman that I had lost her treasures.

So imagine the thrill that coursed through me today when I was looking for something else, and stumbled upon this large envelope–I knew instantly by the feel of it what I had found. I called and left her a message right away, and await receipt of her mailing address to get them home to her asap. Whew! A psychic load off, a good deed done, a loose end tied up. I am beyond grateful for finding what I lost.

Why is American currency so boring? is what I always think when I look at foreign notes like these from the lost stash. It was a big deal to me when the US $20 got some colors other than green back in 2003. Have you looked at cash lately? While double-checking the date on that milestone, I stumbled upon this fascinating guide to US bills, and pulled out a couple denominations to examine. So though the US was late to the dance, I’m grateful for colors in money, for the good fortune to have a little cash in my wallet, and for finding out just how layered is its design.

Letting Go

Impermanence. My brand new martini glass. How the happiness of things never lasts. Less than two weeks old, a careless moment in the kitchen… Oh well! Though I’m grateful for shiny things, I’m more grateful for my growing capacity to let go. Anyway, there were two in the set. I’ll be more mindful with the last one. And when one day that glass also breaks, that will be ok too. I’m grateful for letting go.

Letting Go: Tulips

I’m grateful that in those few hours every few days that it’s warm enough, native bees are out in the few flowers already open.

I’m grateful I celebrated these tulips yesterday, before one of them got eaten. A couple of others that hadn’t bloomed yet also got – nipped in the bud! And, I’m grateful I heard the first hummingbird today! I rushed inside and boiled some nectar, set it in the mudroom to cool for a few hours, and put the first feeder up. I wish I’d thought to make nectar ahead of time like Deb did, so when I heard that first unmistakable zzzzip! through the air I could have put the feeder out right away. Oh well! It’s out now, that’s all that matters.

I’m grateful for the new garden gate underway, so far simply built but not yet hinged in place, so it’s wired for now. I’m guessing between removing the old temporary gate and replacing this one, a doe got into the garden and ate a few tulips, then escaped. I’m grateful I don’t really care who left the gate open long enough for that to happen; it could have been me but I don’t remember. Grateful I’m able to LET IT GO. It’s just a couple of tulips: and I’ve got a beautiful new gate, almost.

Letting Go

Letting Go. This is who I am. This is what I do. I let go. I’ve spent a lifetime resisting, yet learning to let go, and it is time now to put to the test the letting go lessons. I’m grateful for letting go of so many things, tangible and intangible, in the past year; my letting go accelerates this year. 

I let go of any expectation or even hope for perfection in material things a long time ago, while I was building this house. With an emotional punch as from a sudden death, I let go of perfect walls one morning after I worked in Grand Junction overnight, and returned to find that an unexpected rainstorm had washed away parts of several walls under a fresh bond beam. I’ll fix it later, I told myself, some day. Imperfections piled on after that, and I had to let go: Nothing in this house is plum, level, or square.

Letting go of noticing mismatched caulk proved to be a lot easier than letting go of “No Trust.”

A professional finish? Forget it. The caulk around the window frames, among other things, reflects my letting go of that ideal. This was the best fix for the conditions at the time, when we discovered that blowing perlite insulation into the 4” space between the double walls was a bad idea. Before we got close to filling it up, perlite aspirated out of every minute gap between blocks and window bucks, into the house. We bought the closest caulk to adobe color; but I had to let go of noticing the difference, and call it close enough.

I’m grateful for letting go on days like this, when the internet I pay too much for is down most of the day, the new computer I paid too much for is in the shop for repair after only three weeks, four years of photo libraries are lost from a backup disc that the new computer fried, along with who knows what else. I’m grateful for letting go on other days, too; letting go of little things all along helps cultivate equanimity for when I have to let go of big things.