This week I’ve had to “migrate” my small online shop from one website to another. These tasks are really beyond my comprehension and take me five times longer to complete than perhaps an internet native. (I call it migraining!) It makes me think that all kinds of migration, even a virtual one, require fortitude. The quest is archetypal. Mine is not a grand epic, but it seems that no matter how insignificant the situation, migration is still one of the greatest challenges a person will undertake. For the record, I am an immigrant.
When we moved to the house we currently live in, I proclaimed that I would not leave unless in a coffin or most likely an urn. That was how traumatized I felt from the uprooting. Twenty well-lived years later, the children raised and flown, I ponder how to unburden myself of the many earthly possessions (some of which are not mine) and possibly move! This brings to mind the poet Rumi’s words:
“Why do you stay in prison when the door is so wide open?”
So this weekend, after a period of perpetual rumination, I abruptly unburdened the purple piano of all the portraits and knick-knacks, and wheeled it to the door (almost)—of course I asked for help. This turns out to be a good way to get to know the neighbors, by the way! The piano is out on the curb to be picked up during large-item collection (junk) week.
Perhaps it is only in my mind, but I am feeling lighter and less stuck.
My website is not fully grounded, so I am using this opportunity to take a step away from the business of selling and promoting to enjoy purging, organizing, re-assessing, and just making stuff. I also am helping prepare my daughter’s wedding!
Within reasonable circumstances, whether you are bound or unbound is in the mind. The door is wide open.