As you read this, I am probably making coffee and breakfast in my new home in the South – a beautiful rental owned by a kindred spirit. I’m seeing that moment as a fantasy I want so badly I can taste it. My reality today is a wreck of boxes and things. My house has been eviscerated and I am in the middle of the gore, as usual, bravely making sense of it all. I am packing up a house I built some seven years ago—a home I believed I would live in forever. My youngest was born in my bedroom six years ago. This place was home to many who came as guests and left as family. You get the picture. There are significant ties that must be gently severed.
Packing up my home has been a journey of joy and sorrow. It is overwhelming to sift through the stories of one’s life, especially if you have to retain a semblance of normalcy and equanimity for the children. We have all fallen ill in the process of packing and letting go, but I know this is all part of the inevitable transition. It is a journey my family must take. The sooner we get there, the faster we will all heal.
I am 40 and have been told that it is a good age for change. Well, I can tell you that change is definitely happening here—not in gentle, measured curves, but in big, bold, hurry-up-and-get-with-it strokes. A powerful energy is urging me to leave. I sometimes feel the house itself is pushing me to the edge so I can jump already, and begin the life I am meant to live. Maybe I have wasted enough time.
I did not want to subject my children to any kind of move because I moved too many times when I was a child. I don’t think I stayed in any home for longer than three years. I vowed my children would have their birth homes to come back to, but it wasn’t to be. Sometimes the perceived obstacles in our childhood are preparation for things we must meet in adulthood, so I accept this as my lesson and call on our angels to help my children through. I used to think that the point was to avoid making the same mistakes my parents made, but today I think it possible that the consequences of their mistakes gave me the strength to face my own trials when they came. Sometimes, clarity comes from a gentle shift in perspective—a willingness to look at things from the other side.
Still, major crossroads demand introspection, especially where children are concerned. I know the time has come for me to leave this home and yet everyday, I think of what this will mean for my boys: how will this change manifest in their lives? Am I doing the right thing? (Good luck with that rhetorical question). How will this move affect my older boy who is turning 10 in July, and the younger one who just turned 6? Given what I know about biography and the different stages of life, questions have naturally given birth to more questions I cannot begin to answer yet. Yet I know that I cannot be paralyzed by the unknown. All I know for sure is that April 2007 will be a red mark on their biography charts (should they choose to embark on the work), years down the line.
Everyday, as I get rid of things, plop them into the “give away” box, put them aside for long-term storage, or tuck them into the room that holds everything I will take with me, I carry my children in my heart consciously and pray that this, their mother’s rebirth, will be a positive chapter in their life stories. I pray that I have brought them closer to a lesson they must pick up on the way to the fulfillment of their own destinies. I hope that my big leap into the future is not their big derailment.
I have philosopher and spiritual scientist Rudolf Steiner to thank for my insight into human biography. I didn’t really pay attention to my own life cycle until I hit my thirties and found myself in hell. Then I decided to grab any book I could on human biography. It has been a tremendous help in understanding the human life cycles. It does not make life easier, but knowing the mood or gesture of a particular life phase helps me step back and breathe a little even through the worst crisis. Having a general idea of what happens when one is in his thirties (this period is generally the time for inner turmoil and major change), for example, gave me perspective when I was going through my period of torment. I knew I needed to ride it out and that I would survive, no matter what. I knew what needed to happen inside me, so I let go of any attachments to outcome and simply stayed true to the course. Who would have known I would live to tell the tale at 40 ?!
Those interested in books on biography can visit the Ilios Bookstore on the 2nd floor of ISIP (address above). Hours are from 10am to 6pm, Tuesdays through Saturdays. There are some titles on biography available.
I am moving in a few days. I laughed out loud when I realized that my first official day in my new life is today, April Fool’s Day. That’s a good way to sum up my life, but only from the perspective of The Fool in a deck of tarot cards. It is the card of possibility, not necessarily the card of an idiot, though I won’t deny that I have certainly walked that path before, and will probably make a few more visits before this life is up.
My children will be on a beach trip while I make the big move. They will join me in our new home on Easter weekend—the time of resurrection and rebirth. I didn’t plan it that way but I don’t take that message of hope lightly.
Every human life is a beautiful story of pain, suffering, joy, grace, death, and birth. Getting to know a little about life cycles helps us maintain equanimity and openness through the most trying circumstances. It gives us a window through which we can make sense of the often tenuous threads of destiny.