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Truly, Deeply, Madly. — Living by Letting Go.

{Photo via Pinterest}

{Photo via Pinterest}

By Christie Malone

“Dare to live by letting go.” ~ Tom Althouse

Sharing a bedroom with two of my sons at my parents’ home was one of the craziest and most fun childlike times I’ve experienced as a mom.

I could have felt bad for them — Can you imagine being teenage boys and having to share a room with your Mother?!?

But I didn’t feel sorry for them a bit. Okay, maybe a little.

I constantly had to remind myself that one day this time would be one of their greatest memories, and I told them so too.

I’d preach, “One day when you are sharing stories with your grandchildren, this will be one of the best.” They would usually roll their eyes.

I still believe it to be true. Seriously, how often can you lay in the dark of the night chit-chatting, and say, “Goodnight, I love you” without ever leaving your bed? Truth is, more often than not, we stayed up talking way past our bedtime.

There are those times in our lives that we have no control over, like… when I lost my job. This caused the loss of our house, and I attempted to make home elsewhere — the boyfriend’s place.

And then, there are those times that we choose, like… subsequently leaving the perfectly comfortable and safe relationship with said boyfriend.

It was not an easy decision. He was a wonderful man, a great friend, good to me and my boys, but he deserved more love than I was able to give.

I loved him. The kind of honest love that allowed me to let him go find the woman meant for him, and he did!

I loved myself enough not to settle for less than I dreamt of in a relationship. My dream was real. I had experienced it with my own heart and soul. True, Deep, Mad Love, which does not change with time or space. The kind of love that movies are made of, but that is another story.

When I lost the house, I got rid of 90% of my stuff.

I remember opening the first hall closet when I began the packing process to move out of our home — a home I had worked my ass off for six years to keep for my boys after the divorce.

I was coming out of the scariest and most difficult four months of my life including an assault, a cancer scare, and an ugly custody battle. Losing the house felt like salt in an open wound.

As I opened the first closet door and saw all the things to start packing, I felt overwhelmed and just stood there crying.

I had lost my main job of 12 years, had little income from my other two jobs, and certainly did not want to pay to store shit in a unit. I decided anything that had a bad memory attached to it, or was not useful, would go. I could use some cash from a garage sale anyway.

At first this task was hard. Each decision took time and would sometimes be moved from the Go pile back to the Stay pile and then eventually return to the Go pile.

But as with anything, this process became easier and easier to the point that I was flinging crap out to the driveway. And the more I flung, the better it felt. It was one of the most freeing experiences of my life and I was surprised by how little we really need.

In Yoga, we call this Aparigraha: non-excess, and although I hadn’t learned this part of the practice at that time, I was practicing it.

So often our mind connects emotions to things or activities, and we find that we need more and more.

What we don’t realize is that obtaining more only bogs us down, drains our energy, and diminishes our view.

I can vouch for this philosophy; having just enough allowed me to feel expansive, light, and free, leaving more space to be truly grateful for this beautiful life.

The experience allowed me to view all things that really matter — people, relationships, shared moments, nature, the colors of the sunset, and time — as sacred.

I was able to fit our enough into two bedrooms and a small corner of the garage when I packed up from the boyfriend’s house, and at 40, moved back home to my parents’ with my three children and two dogs.

Thankfully, my boys trust me and my parents are amazingly supportive. Secretly, I think they were happy I had finally asked for help, which did not come easy for me.

Having all three boys share a room sounded like a nightmare, so I gave the small room to my son who was with me full time while I shared a room with the other two, since their time was still being divided between me and their dad.

In the gigantic room, we had a set of bunk beds, and a queen bed which I enjoyed when the boys were not with me. When they were home, I gave the queen bed to my son who was much bigger than I, and I slept on the bottom bunk.

And then there was this particular morning, as the sun shined brightly through the window behind me, I opened my eyes to the piece of plywood of the top bunk-bed supporting my youngest son above me, and…

I felt Happy! Truly, Deeply, Madly… Happy!

*****

christieChristie is a crazy, simple-livin’, flip-flop-wearin’ girl, who finds joy in being a singin’-dancin’ fool, and finds peace in admiring the sky. Her wealth is in the form of an awesome family, the best of friends, and being surrounded by amazing people everywhere she goes. Of all her nicknames, ‘Momma Bear’ is her favorite, and her most important purpose on this planet is in the makings of three amazing young men who teach her every single day how to live. She is blessed beyond measure, forever grateful, and loves big and deep with all her heart and soul. She loves reading, writing, Yoga, and sitting in her porch swing staring at the sky! You could contact Christie via Facebook or her blog.

 

 

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