It’s late evening. The sky should be dark but instead there is an ominous red casting an eerie glow over the hillside behind the RV park where we live. Reclining in a chaise lounge on our front patio area I am watching the hill illuminated by the wildfires that have been raging near our town since Monday morning. Only this evening has the fire approached a distance close enough to warrant an evacuation and like the flames themselves, the energy, concern and panic among those around me is both palatable and spreading.
Today was going to be a banner day in our kitchen. Our oven and dishwasher have been on strike since we arrived. Every meal has been carefully planned around not needing an oven and every dish has been scrubbed clean in person. This was the day that some unknown delivery man was going to drive up to our front door and deliver happiness and freedom in two large boxes. I washed dishes this morning after breakfast, silently soaking in the celebration that this would be my last date with sudsy water and dreamed about the dessert I was going to bake later that day. I then proceeded to ignore the lunch dishes and willingly permitted them to pile up knowing that soon, very soon, I would simply slip them into their magical steamy sanitation chamber.
There are far far better things ahead than any we leave behind ~C.S. Lewis
As I look back on the weeks leading up to our move, I distinctly recall wanting to capture and preserve moments and memories and tuck them into the recesses of my mind.
Now that we have changed our location, our routines and the view outside our window, I have found that there is a temptation to look back at those former moments with longing. While this may seem harmless or even “normal”, I believe that the best perspective is to look back with gratitude rather than longing at that which I was able to experience.
So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:12
“Flying is a lot harder than it was before I acquired all these possessions. The best way to travel, really, is to travel light.” ~Louie from The Trumpet of the Swan
Louie was one wise swan. I can’t think of a better way to word the way that possessions weigh you down. I’ve discovered that traveling light is often harder than it seems. Letting go and lightening the load isn’t difficult if there is no attachment. However, memories and sentiment muddle things for me. I often hold onto to things unnecessarily long. Take my childhood collection of ribbons and trophies as an example. These colorful momentos have been gathering dust in a box in our guest bedroom for over 15 years. When we prepared to list our home for sale several months back I asked myself: Do I look at them? No. Do I display them in my house? No. Do I think about them from time to time? No. Is it hard to throw them away? Yes. Do I have to throw them out? No. Will I miss them if I do? I doubt it. Continue reading “traveling light”