Throughout our lives we have opportunities to examine our tapestry and reassess. Do I like these colors? This pattern? Is the stitching right? If the answers are 'yes,' we continue on the same path. If the answers are 'no,' then a world of possibilities open.
The prospect of changing ones tapestry may be overwhelming or thoroughly exhilarating, perhaps even both stitched together with fear of the unknown. Maybe it's a mixed bag of 'I like some of what I've got, but not everything.' Maybe a slight adjustment is in order; a tweak here, a shift there. In any case, there is one truth—the tapestry is ours to create as we so choose.
I think of this each time I move. Sometimes it feels like I'm always on the road—my life, a constant state of temporary. But each time, I get to reassess my tapestry and make adjustments. Not because I'm unhappy—to the contrary—it's because I am happy and love the adventure of new and different.
This morning, I stood humbly beneath the stars waiting for meteors, but instead watched a few lightening bugs dance to the symphony of crickets. The warm air blanketed my body and the only human sound was that of my own breathing. It was a beautiful way to start one of the last mornings in this comfy little pad I've called home for the last four months. I'm going to miss the squirrels pining at my front door and the birds pecking outside my breakfast nook window. I've made treasured memories here, as I have in every place I've lived during my temporary existence on Earth. Alas, it is time to move on.
I am excited about my new apartment located just a mile down the street. While this move has been dictated by external forces beyond my control, it's another opportunity to reinvent self—pick new colors and patterns for this next bit of tapestry making.
Although my somewhat nomadic lifestyle is not for everyone, it brings with it the added bonus of simplicity and minimalism ... to a point. Letting go of worldly possessions comes easier for me than it does for some, but I do have an obscene amount of shoes. I imagine this will change when I retire, but for now my shoes are like like art for my feet and I'm okay with that.
It was Frank Lloyd Wright who said space should dictate stuff, not the other way around. So I guess I'm going to find out how many shoes 500 square feet can comfortably accommodate ... or what I'm willing to give up to accommodate them. I've often said eating is an annoying habit, so don't be surprised if you find shoes in my kitchen cabinets instead of food.
These are tough choices. Food or shoes? You laugh, but there was a time in my life when I didn't have choices—a time when choices I had made trapped me, robbed me of freedom of choice, and bankrupted me spiritually.
Today, I make different choices. I am in a constant state of temporary because I am always changing and growing. I am progress not perfection on a daily basis. I don't ever want to 'arrive.' I want to continue the Camino of life and weave new tapestry everyday.
What does your tapestry say about you and what will you weave today?
