Attic attack. Forced minimalism. It's funny-I totally crave to be a "minimalist" but I find so many "things" so beautiful. I don't own much at all, but even going through THAT stuff is proving taxing. What to take with me, what to pack to keep for later, what to give to friends, what to donate, what to toss...and so on and so forth. You know the drill. (Though my drill is a bit a unique seeing as I will live from a suitcase or two for two years-yay!)
So not only am I going through this, my parents are too. I am leaving in less than 3 weeks while they have 2 months until their big move (oh right did I mention they are moving out of my childhood home to Massachusetts? Yes, there is quite a bit of untethering happening in our world) and my father is ravenous for the move and so there is daily purging, sorting, tossing around here.
This morning he came to me with a folder full of papers he found on the floor in the attic off of my bedroom. The first piece of paper was a handwritten letter by me...to the Universe I suppose. It was written a week after I lost my brother in a car crash (late January of 2003) and my hope is that my raw and vulnerable state around death will bring some peace to you:
My Brother------>
Life is a small part of the journey of the spirit.
Our bodies are impermanent and earthly. They coccon the butterfly inside-our soul.
That cold, icy night last week, God allowed Philip to be free of his cocoon and to join Him in the vast heaven.
Any one who has ever had a conversation with me of any depth knows I do believe all happens for the best, with "reason".
It sounds silly to think there could possibly be a reason for this...But I trust God.
My brother loved life, God made sure--
Have a beautiful Friday full of remembrance of how impermanent this life is. Let go fo the past and have no fear for the future. Enjoy now.
Love.
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