Lessons in Non-Attachment

Having recently returned from my insanely stressful house-clearing, son-moving stint in England, only to be faced with the imminent trials of our French house move to the Allier, I find myself somewhat overshadowed by a cloud of dysphoria. I fear that I may have inadvertently packed my sense of excitement into an old box along with the twenty-years-worth of dust-covered memorabilia that was hastily discarded at The Tip (sorry….I mean “Raynesway Civic Amenity Centre”) on the frantic last day of my nowhere-near-long-enough visit to empty our Derby house in preparation for its (yet-to-be finalised) transfer to new ownership.

Emptying the attic of all the Stuff that had somehow accumulated in it during my 19 years of residence in the house was a bizarre experience. Boxes of baby clothes, children’s toys and school work (Ahh..); sacks of discarded clothes hoarded through the seventies, eighties and nineties (did I really wear THAT?); my ex-husband’s first draft of the first (never-published) book he wrote (pretty good, actually); myriad leaving cards containing messages of good will from long-forgotten work colleagues; black and white photographs of times-gone-by, and dog-eared colour snaps of ex-boyfriends….and only a few short hours to decide what to keep and what to throw away forever. It was a strangely emotional experience –  nostalgic smiles dampened with melancholy tears as I rummaged through the dusty record of My Life So Far.

And then, cleaning the empty house, I recalled all the work that Simon and I had done not much more than a year ago, to get the house into a sellable condition. The days of plastering and painting, plumbing and prettifying, from dawn till dusk for days on end, culminating in a last minute rush to get everything presentable for the estate agent’s photographs, the day before we left forever, with a trailer full of furniture and and hearts full of hope.

Why do we always have to do everything in such a rush? And why does the pleasure of starting a new life always have to be tinged with the sadness of leaving behind the old? And, as we find ourselves just a year on from that last Big Change, once again thrashing about frantically in the upheaval of yet another transition, I wonder when….if….we will ever Settle Down.

There is no doubt about it –  I feel monumentally sad about having to say Goodbye to two houses that I have loved. Both are very special to me, and both are full of wonderful memories. If I could wrap them up in newspaper, squash them in a big box, and keep them safely hidden away in the Attic in the Universe, I would.

Clearly, I have a problem with Attachment. I have a problem with Letting-Go.

But I also have an insatiable appetite for Novelty, and an irresistible urge to try out all the possibilities that Life sends my way. An un-taken Opportunity becomes a Regret. Memories grow out of New Experiences. Life is Change. It has to be Lived.

And now I think I am beginning to understand the lessons in non-attachment that the Universe keeps ramming down my throat. The key isn’t to avoid attachment – to live like an island, so that no loss can cause pain. The trick is to recognize that joy and sorrow are two sides of the same thing, and to accept that they are both fine. To enjoy and appreciate things while they are there, and to let them go when their time has passed.

Today I am sad, and that’s ok. Tomorrow I will be happy, and that will be ok too. Life is just what it is, and I’m pleased and grateful to be bouncing about in the middle of it.