Imagine your life like a room.
You walk into the room and everything you own, have, or don’t want is in this room.
It’s everything you have and carry with you.
People, places, and things.
Memories, possessions, gifts, disease, jobs, identities, everything.
You survey the room.
“I don’t like this in here,” you think.
“I wish this was in here,” you think.
You pick up things and smile and you avert your eyes from others.
The room is your life. Everything in it right now.
There are things we pick up and hug.
There are things we hold onto for dear life.
There are things we wish to throw out the window, and there are things we can, maybe should, throw out the window.
This beautiful room is your life.
You may pick things up or hold people with such gratitude, but you must also be able to set them down.
Things will disappear from this room and things will be added.
Things can be thrown out and you can open the window to let things fly.
This is your room.
People will come into this room and people will leave.
I think strength lies in being okay with that…being okay with yourself in that room no matter what comes, goes, what doesn’t show up, and what won’t leave.
I believe we must leave the door open. I believe we must reckon with certain things in the room. I believe we must let some things go.
I believe we must welcome each new thing and person with grace and gratitude.
“Welcome,” she said.
“It’s very nice to have you. Stay as long as our song plays.”
For things are just things, and people are just people.
It’s the energy, the soul, and lesson they bring like a messenger with a divine suitcase.
Welcome your guests, your guests being people, things, circumstances, and even emotions.
Love on the ones that stay too long, and salute the ones that go too soon. Cry if you must, mourn if you must, for goodbyes are hard. Hug their neck and watch them go, and know that soon, someone or something new will grace your doorway. Maybe a new version of what left or something entirely new. What you need will always grace your doorway.
It’s a divine play, and we are all characters with our forged and given props. There is music playing and each song has an ending. There is always another act, and always a curtain call.
You may bring things into your room. I think we do so purposely and also unconsciously. I think certain things were always going to knock on our door like an appointment, and I think some things come with no conscious invitation. I don’t know the difference.
I only know that they show up, and we get to chose to leave the door open, or lock the doors, or push our weight against the door to keep them out, or stand in the doorway waiting for them to come.
We get to choose the label, feeling, perspective, or emotion that we assign them. There is freedom, and there is fate. And there is always the freedom of perception. There is always the choice of how we decide to dance with what comes through our doorway. Are you going to swing and sway? Are you going to slow dance? Are you going to shake a tail feather? Are you going to sit this one out? It’s totally up to you. This is your life. This is your room. However, I think you should leave the door open. I think that’s what they call surrender.