Peace. Quiet. Tranquility. A Bedroom! Heaven.
I want to order in dinner every night. I want to buy all of my groceries online. I want to sit on my couch, look out of the glass door that leads to our deck at the clear blue sky, and listen to absolutely nothing. I never want to leave this place. My new home. Are you ready for this?
Yes, it really is. Before I moved to New York City, I wouldn't have dared live in something so small. But now, this place is the grandest, most luxiurious, most spacious living arrangement I could ever want.
And who needs all this stuff? We still have too much stuff. I could do without three-fourths of it. OK, maybe half. But the point is, how and why did we ever live with so much stuff? It's so cumbersome and stationary. It's almost slavery. When I got married, I registered for a bunch of stuff, and thankfully then but unfortunately now, we got alot of it. I remember how stressful it was to pick it all out. I had no idea what to pick. Now I wish I hadn't picked out anything at all and just bought a few plastic plates and bowls and cups from Target.
We walked over to our old apartment today to do a little cleaning before turning in our keys. I couldn't wait to get out of there. The place that had been my home for five months was nothing to me. I resented it. Anger. Disgust. Frusteration. But no attachment. No wistful nostalgia or fond goodbyes. I shut the door with a Good Riddance and never looked back.
But now, I am at peace. I feel like we've just woken up from a dream. More like we just finished a five-month marathon and are sitting at the finish line, drinking the most refreshing bottle of the purest water and breathing in the crisp, clean air. Long, slow breaths of home and health and strength, overcoming strength. Perseverence. Gratitude. Rest.