The picture above/to the right was taken just last evening at the Folger-Pratt farm. I was invited to share in a family dinner outside with Josh Pratt, my friend and realtor, as well as his family, parents, brother, and sister. Beneath the bright sunset is Sugarloaf mountain. It was an idyllic setting for us adults and all their children.
It will likely be the last time I will ever be here and the last time I will ever see them again. Part of moving is coming to terms with all that we value in the here and now, just before we let it go. Here are some of my reflections as I transition to my new life in Lehi, Utah.
Have a wonderful week!
On Goodbyes and Hellos
Letting go of the old and embracing the new
You can't imagine the changes I've been dealing with over the past few months. Currently, I'm sitting at the coffee table writing this article, having sold both my dining room and kitchen tables where Jack Rome and I would normally sit every week to edit my holistic updates. Over half of my furniture has been sold. The last several truckloads were sold to the notary who came with closing documents for me to sign. All the drapes were taken down today—empty spaces everywhere I look. I'm making room for the new to come into my life.
It's all very symbolic of other aspects of my life. I'm opening myself to new friendships and new adventures in a new phase. A few months ago, I didn't think that I would be going on a grand new adventure, but here I am like Frodo, just before he sets off beyond Hobbiton. I know quite a few people who are planning to move or have moved recently. Have you been experiencing big changes in your life? Has the pandemic caused your life to shift in a completely different direction?
As I dealt with all the tasks associated with buying a house in Utah, I made quite a few new friends: Tonja, the Sr. Loan Consultant; David, the real estate agent; and Jane, the credentialing specialist. They're like angels helping me to transition from my comfortable place to a new, unfamiliar place where I'm meant to be. I really needed their help during these past months, and they've given it generously. There's nothing that feels quite so amazing as being helped by loving, generous people. I'm not used to this feeling, but I like it a lot. I like feeling deeply grateful and loving in return.
Also, I've had to depend even more on the help of friends to prepare the house for sale and for the move and to help me deal with the ups and downs of purchasing a house. Friends and family were there to support me each step of the way.
For the first time in my life, I have to admit that I've never been alone. I believed that I was very much alone all my life. I thought of myself as a hermit and tried to be very, very self-sufficient. I gave and didn't expect much in return. But after receiving so much help from people with my move, I must acknowledge that my old self-perceptions must be shed like an old cocoon. This shell of self-perception created the illusion that I'm tough and intimidating—a hermit who didn't need anyone's help. It's simply not true.
Today, when I asked Haeyoon, my assistant, if she thinks that I'm tough and intimidating, she burst out laughing. She said that I'm a softy, a very big softy. And I said, "I am?" Just like Winnie the Pooh.
Sometimes we move to a new place, like Lehi, Utah. At the same time, we move to a new place in our hearts—the place of held-back goodness. David Kopacz, MD, my colleague and friend, refers to this concept in his book, Walking the Medicine Wheel: Healing Trauma & PTSD. In chapter 14, he writes about the "Return to the Held-back Place of Goodness." The chapter can also be found in The Badger, volume 4, Issue 2, Autumn/Winter 2020, 44 - 67. I have found that the more I heal, the more open I am to love and friendship.
When Maria, the notary, came over with closing documents for the sale of my house, we became friends easily.
"I like your kitchen table!" she said as she sat down with her forms.
"Oh, yeah? Do you want it?"
"Sure, are you selling it?"
"Well, yes, I am!"
She smiled delightedly. I sold her the table and chairs and asked, "Do you want to buy more?"
"Yes! What else do you have?"
So, she bought three bookcases, my desk and chair, and the buffet table.
Afterward, she said, "I was having a kind of dull, down day, but you just made my day. I love your energy!"
I loved her energy too.
When I am in my place of held-back goodness, I am not a hermit, nor am I tough and intimidating. I am just being myself: happy, friendly, and generous.
After so many years of healing as a psychiatrist and being in therapy, I am going back home with my heart intact and whole. I am going back home because I can do so and not lose myself as I once did, for I have found my place of held-back goodness where there is love to spare for me and for all my new friends.