"Barn's burnt down...now I can see the moon."
After I wrote my last post about my computer crashing, quite literally, I took some time to be with what I was feeling. I was quite upset at the prospect of losing my hard drive with all my photos, music, documents and writing. But I wasn't sure why it was hitting me so hard.
So, I had a little conversation with myself that went something like this:
"Why is this so upsetting for you?"
"Because I've already lost so much."
"And what does it mean to lose?"
"It means I have to start over."
"And why is that upsetting?"
"Because I've had to start over so many times in my life."
"And how was that for you?"
"It was hard. It's hard to let go. And it's hard to know who to be next, and what to do next and where to go next."
"Was it all hard?"
"No. There was also some excitement. When there's nothing left to lose, there's everything to gain. I would begin to dream of who I could be next, what I could do next and where I could go next."
"So, it wasn't all bad?"
"No, it wasn't. In hindsight, perhaps it was all good."
And then, something shifted. A deep peace came over me. And clarity.
I saw how many things and people from my past I thought I'd never be able to live without. I thought I could never live without my mother's approval. Or my "God"'s approval. Or my community's approval. But I can. And I do.
I thought I'd never be able to live without a car. But I can. And I do.
I thought I'd never be able to live alone, without a man in my life. But I can. And I do.
It is funny because a few days before my computer crashed, I was going through my Iphoto collection and a thought flashed across my mind, I really wish I had the strength to delete most of these photos. Earlier this year, I had gone through and widdled down my collection, deleting over 3,000 photos, but reached a point where I couldn't let go of any more. I couldn't decide what to let go of and what to keep.
Now, I see that very little is worth keeping. Very little. Most can be let go of. And I realize now that there's very little that I can't live without. This lesson of letting go keeps coming back to me again and again and again. I watch as Kali continues to do her dance across my life. I am being reminded to continually take an inventory of the things and people in my life and question whether there's anything I'm clinging to that I think I can't live without. It is a freeing epiphany when the deep voice arises from my soul reminding me that I am enough; that all I need is within and available in the greater cosmos; that it is okay to let go and just trust.
In my reading of late, I have been reminded that what we experience isn't just a Life/Death cycle. It is a Life/Death/Life cycle. Out of death comes life again. Out of every loss comes a birth of new life, new possibilities, new horizons.
And so, whether my hard drive can be recovered or not, it's okay. I can live without the past. And even if my computer can't be fixed, and it's awhile before I can afford a new one, it's okay. I can live without a computer of my own. The cycle of Life continues. It is what it is. And shall be what it shall be. And, it's all good.