Archive for the ‘Letting Go’ Category

Earlier this week I finally got around to making motions on a decision I’d made well over a year ago–to sell my wedding dress.

The way I saw it I had two options:

  • Spend more money to dry clean and preserve the dress. Thereafter, it would probably never be worn by me again, but rather remain bagged and hung in the deep, forgotten recesses of an unused closet only to collect dust. Take up space. Exist. Be. Perhaps I’d take it out some day and smile as the flood of memories swelled through my heart as a result of the dress simply being a reminder. A keepsake. No longer an article of clothing with even a hint of utility. In theory, whatever feelings and images I’d want to reproduce from my wedding day could be done without still possessing the dress I wore on that day.
  • Sell the dress. Make a couple of bucks on it, albeit a tenth of what was actually paid for it. Free up the space in my closet, my life, my mind. Have one less thing to worry about. Move. Store. Maintain. ..

When I found out the dress wasn’t going to be worth all that much I had to ask myself what was it worth to me? Was I to follow through with the former or the latter? Surprisingly enough the consignment store owner claimed she’d never had someone come in who was hesitant about selling. Was I truly the only gal that walked through her doors with pre-sale remorse?

I stood around weighing the pros and the cons of selling, biding my time a bit, chit-chatting with the seamstress and another seller looking to unload a gaudy sweet 16 gown and a make-up caked prom dress.

As humans we attach ourselves to things, to people, to memories, to goals. The list goes on and on. The basis of this attachment is rooted in our attachment to ideas, particularly on how our reality or circumstances should be. The suffering that I experienced in making the wedding dress decision was rooted in a belief that I should hold onto it. Perhaps because it’s irreplaceable. Perhaps because I wouldn’t get what I paid for it. Perhaps because that’s simply the social norm, what others would do.

Finally, I bit the bullet, let go of the “shoulds” chose the latter. Non-Attachment. Free myself.

At least for the time being.

I have to admit that after it crossed my mind I could take the couple hundred bucks and buy one or two more practical, albeit drop-dead-sexy, night-on-the-town dresses my decision was solidified. My train of thought ended with a mental picture of Evan’s face when he first saw me coming down the “aisle.” Perhaps I could get a similar reaction from him in a new dress–

Make a new memory with a new experience.

With my circling, indecisive thought patterns replaced with a simple priceless image of Evan looking at me as if I was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen I took the consignment store’s card, left the dress behind, and walked out the door.


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This past weekend I accepted an invitation to a friend’s beach condo in Wildwood, NJ.

After having just lost my job and wildly shaking up the stability of my marriage, the reality I’ve been creating around myself has been nothing short of rocky. This creation is mine. All mine. The thoughts, words, and actions that have led me to this point have shaped the here and now, this present moment where I am sitting. Typing away. Musing on a brand-spankin’ new blog at the eve of a new beginning.

Meanwhile, there was no shortage of things I thought I should be doing instead of indulging in a mini-vacation. Certainly I should have declined the invitation. I should have stayed home and punished myself with menial housework, grueling exercise, worry, guilt, shame. I should have started straightaway to revamp my resume, write cover letters, and furiously job hunt. I should have found alternative health insurance. I should have picked up a few serving shifts…

Instead I accepted. I accepted the invitation. I accepted my present circumstances. I accepted that for a couple of days I could choose to put the shoulds on hold. I could choose to accept the invitation out of necessity, rather than indulgence. I could choose to work on other aspects of my reality that often take the back burner–nurturing friendships, playing, laughing, singing dancing…and I did. We did.

We hula hooped in the park AND at the bar. We screamed at the top of our lungs on the roller coaster. We sprinted to the ocean and boogy-boarded on the waves. We played soccer in the sand and games on the dining room table. We lounged on the beach, swam in the pool, relaxed in the hot tub, and napped in the afternoon….

Yesterday, my friends and I biked along the boardwalk. It was such a new concept for me to be on a bike solely built for cruising, for sightseeing, for pleasure. For me, bikes have really only ever been a tool for building strength, muscle and character…for racing and competing. I had to ask of myself to let go of these old limitations and experience new joy. I had to accept that there was no other purpose of this bike ride other than to enjoy the mere act of cruising around and taking in the sights and sounds. There was no stopwatch or competitor or finish line. There was simply a beautiful day and companionship to be had. There was no destination.

On our way home after finishing up our bike ride,  a friend and I took a detour to the gardens at the Hereford Inlet Lighthouse. Normally, autopilot would have had me stroll on by to reach my destination back at the condo. By deviating from our intended destination’s path briefly to visit the garden I encountered a brave butterfly. He allowed me to take all the time I needed to adjust my camera settings and take many shots of him at various angles as he danced a mere foot from my lens and even tickled my face several times with his delicate wings.

Now, don’t get me wrong. The weekend wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies. I missed a few patches on my leg with the sunblock and ended up with a crazy patchwork sunburn on my right leg and I got shit on by a seagull at the beach…that is about it though in the “cons” category. My butt crack also made an appearance at the pool as I jumped for a show of acrobatics and gravity took its course with my over-sized bottoms. That was arguably a good thing if you asked the person on the receiving end of my show. And come to think of it, I was told that a bird pooping on you is a sign of good luck.

Well bring on the good luck. I’ll go with that!

I will take that good luck to help me find my way along a new career path, a healthier and happier marriage and more good times with friends.

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