I recently read Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s book, Gift from the Sea. If you haven’t read it, she goes to her sister’s beach home and writes about life’s transitions. I am not longer part of the sandwich generations. My aging parents and in-laws have died, the estates are settled. My well educated and accomplished offspring have found positions in their careers and have or will be establishing their own households. Ironically the household items that have been moved across states that were part of their inheritance, have no place in the current new domiciles. Neither do childhood beanie babies, troll dolls or prom dresses.
I have a strong need to organize and clean my environment which finds me moving items to locate others, groaning inward when something needed is lost in the detritus of my life.
I long to be free, bouncing across oceans like a float no longer tethered to a Japanese fishing net coming to rest in the cold sands of the Pacific Northwest. I can live for weeks out of a small suitcase when exploring new countries but anchored at home. A thoughtful gift last Christmas was the best seller, “The Art of Tidying Up” which I will revisit soon. The cooler and shorter days arrive with the heaven sent rains, extinguishing the fires of late summer. I will organize both my inner and outer environment to be able to float on the waves of life.