Day 17 – A very long time ago a trusted person told me that the biggest challenge of my life would be to just be and let go. I think that the order of it is important. Let go and just be makes more sense to me. And it makes sense that someday I will need to just go and let it be.
Honestly, some of these concepts are things I’ve been working at and/or kind of good at for years. I am great at letting go of stuff. If you walk into my house and really like that lamp, chances are you can leave with it. Picking through cast offs to furnish my life is an inherited trait. My parents did it when it was something to be ashamed about. And my 4-bedroom Brady Bunch-era house is furnished about 89% with second-hand items. That’s furniture, clothes, and dogs. Anything else was purchased on sale. I am not ashamed about this. Or am I? My home is about peace and practicality, function and female energy. And when I am in my own space I feel safe; the place is a treasure to me. Long ago and far away, I hosted parties in a third floor, walk up aerie. Everything there was scavenged and my parties were attended by doctors and nurses, artists and entertainers, and some amazing friends. They laughed and danced in the kitchen where seating was a pair of church pews I had painted red. They chatted sitting on the sofa that was a remodeled iron baby crib. A co-worker and his girlfriend thumbed through my collection of books housed in milk crates and he proposed to her as she sat on my bed covered in threadbare chenille. I was not embarrassed or afraid. I had a graffiti wall where friends could write a favorite quote or ask a question. My crowd always looked forward to my parties.
And I was not embarrassed or afraid.
These many years later, in a home I own, I can’t recall the date of the last party I hosted. It’s been a long while. I do host a monthly book group comprised of women who are my good friends, women I admire–social worker, 3 entrepreneurs, an author, a computer whiz. Amazing women all. We have been together for about 6 years and lunch in restaurants and sometimes in one of their lovely homes. I have never had them to my house for lunch. Somewhere along the way I let go of that breezy, joyful, I-don’t-give-a-damn-turn-up-the-music attitude about my home. I let go of the wrong thing. This year at some point I am going to just be enough. I’m going to let go of this fear. And I’m going to have my friends over for lunch.