My in-laws have just downsized to move into a retirement home and the experience has been a revelation, causing me to ask myself the questions “how much does our past interfere with our progress?” I am not sure if their experience is a parable, a metaphor or a cautionary tale, but it certainly is a lesson.
Cards, books and videos that have not been looked at for years had to be packed for the move. Crockery, cutlery and linen that has not graced a table in over a decade had to be part of the move because they may be required for entertaining.
It was a story repeated in every room as boxes packed by children to be despatched to a charity shop were raided and repacked in other boxes to go the new home by ageing parents protesting the necessity or sentimentality of items. Every now and then an ancient treasure that unlocked wonderful memories would emerge from the back of a cupboard, and there would be reminiscing and laughter, and sometimes a few tears.
Just as in our homes, in our lifetimes we accumulate stuff that in its season has great purpose and provides wonderful utility, or joy, and often both.
It is good to celebrate that stuff, there is infinite room in our minds for happy memories. Revisiting the memories, and often, is a wonderful tonic for the soul that makes life joyful and builds resilience to all the tough times it can bring.
The danger lies in trying to carry the stuff from that season into this because that will create expectations that cannot be met and so bring disappointment, and the clutter it causes will hinder our capacity to enjoy our new season.
For example, as a young man I was never an athlete (to be honest, I wasn’t an athlete’s bootlace) but I loved to run and jump and try to catch. I was the most enthusiastic participant at park cricket and football, even though so awkwardly unskilled I was the entertainment. As an old man I tried to carry the “stuff” from that season into this, to be the energetic fool with my grandchildren that I had been with my children; the evening and next morning pain sharply taught me that this “stuff” was to be enjoyed in hindsight, new stuff needed to be found for this season. Now, with my granddaughters I am still a fool, just not so energetic!
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