I have always had the tendency to impose somewhat ridiculous expectations on myself, especially during times of transition. If there is ever a time one should not have high expectations it is during a transition. Transitions are dark tunnels with absolutely no light to guide us. We get on our hands and knees, fumble to find something familiar to hang on to, and before we know it, we are crawling in circles. Our focus should be on breathing and getting in touch with our inner north, not expecting ourselves to navigate our way out in record time while singing "The sun will come out tomorrow."
I turned 60 this year so, of course, I had to come up with a grandiose challenge that would make the decade memorable. Initially I wanted to take on a feat that would prove I was still young and vibrant like hike 60 miles all at once. Somehow I knew this was not in alignment with what I really needed to steer me in the right direction for the next chapter of my life.
As much as I loved the previous stages of my life and all that came with them; I knew I needed a fresh start but I had no idea where to begin.
Although it felt like a cop out, I went with the most obvious, ridding myself of my things, but not my old, worn out things. My true treasures that had been buried away in my closets and drawers, waiting to be rediscovered.
First, I made a list of the people who have made an impact on my life. Like my granddaughter, Josie, who broke open a part of my heart I didn't know existed or my friend Karen who helped me see I have inner wisdom that I can access at any time or my sister Joli who has shown me the meaning of the word generosity. At first it was easy listing the names of people who are important to me but then I had to dig a little deeper for the less obvious people who come and go in my life but whose brief encounters have shaped me: like Randy who goes all in on life, takes risks, says what is on his heart and makes me feel alive in his presence and Chris who makes time in his day, no matter what, for his passion of mountain biking which inspires me to prioritize my passions and Steven who questions everything that doesn't make sense which gives me the courage to speak up even when it might mean there will be a conflict. Coming up with 60 names wasn't as challenging as I anticipated; in fact, limiting it to 60 people turned out to be harder. When I think about it, almost every human I encounter, if I am truly present, has shown me how to be more human.
Next, I searched every room, closet, and drawer for my treasures. I found meaningful books like The Gift From the Sea and jewelry that was bought for special occasions and childhood dolls and teddy bears and marbles my father uncovered in his yard in Jerome that were unique and long forgotten. It was a very time consuming experience because each item was like a portal to the past that shaped who I am.
For each prized item I found, I reflected on who might most enjoy or benefit from the item. I wrapped each one in tissue paper and labeled them with a name.
The final and most important part of the mission was to deliver the treasure trove one by one. I did this over time as the year went on. I always made sure I gave them my spill about setting out to bequeath my most prized possessions to important people in my life who have made an impact on me before I handed over the present, but even with the introduction most of the chosen people were caught off guard. I guess I thought people would receive their gift like people do at Christmas time: "oh yeah, it's that time of year, and its polite and nice to exchange gifts" But that isn't what happened. Instead it was like they unexpectantly won a raffle prize that they had contributed $5.00 to, knowing it was really a donation, not a chance to win anything. It was a combination of surprise, disbelief, delight, wonder, and appreciation. I anticipated that my things would not mean that much to the recipients as they did for me and I was prepared for their less than enthusiastic, polite responses. Again I was taken aback. Most of the benefactors were touched by the hand chosen item if nothing else in a way that a mother is touched by her children's attempt at bringing her a burned toast for breakfast in bed on Mother's Day.
What I didn't anticipate about this whole project was how giving away my things would be perceived as an intentional act of love that satiates the universal longing that we all have~ Has my existence mattered? Yet, it was my subconscious intention. I am so grateful I listened to my heart and not my ego when I was searching for a grandiose challenge in my 60th year.
For every unexpected gift I gave, I received one as well: I got to see over and over again what it looks and sounds like to feel seen and loved and appreciated by another human being. I have stumbled upon a new path, one where I can leave behind my accumulated possessions, identities, and limitations and follow the gravitational pull of my spirit that yearns to let be liberated and live out its true purpose: to give away my love over and over again.
