Like many Veterans, we got used to moving every few years.
Even after I transferred to the Reserves and my husband retired, we continued this vagabond lifestyle. We picked up our home, our family, and our possessions. Packed, re-packed, sorted, donated, sold, and even tossed items. Each of these items, at some point, had merited being brought into our lives. And we let go of them.
As we conducted this latest sort, this packing, this renewal, I realized that we were letting go of many beautiful things. Gifts given to us. Prizes won. Crafts made lovingly by small hands at our kitchen table. Technology that had been superseded by the next version.
Some of our beautiful things were not material goods. They didn’t fit in boxes. We were also letting go of partnerships. We were stepping away from our friends, from our schools, our parish, our Scout groups, our colleagues, our team mates.
These endings were necessary to make room for our new job, our new home, our new adventures. We recognized the necessity of the letting go, and yet we are still saddened by the good-byes.
In his excellent book, Necessary Endings, Dr. Henry Cloud observes that, “Getting to the next level always requires ending something, leaving it behind, and moving on. ”
We could not bring everything. The practicality of moving across the world meant that we would not be taking that futon from the upstairs guest room. The Nerf gun arsenal that served my young children well was no longer required by the tweens and teenagers they now are.
As the sort continued, our material possessions started falling into certain categories. And I realized that these were an analogy for our emotional connections.
We were surprised by the things we had held on too long, and these were easy to release. We were pleased to find other things we had forgotten about, and these we are enjoying anew. Other things we loved and yet we knew they needed to be moved into someone else’s lives. We had enjoyed them long enough. It was now someone else’s turn to enjoy them. And yet other things (high school yearbooks, anyone?) went into storage, because we need them in our lives and yet not close by us every day.
At the end of the sort, we had retained what we dearly loved, said good-bye to some lovely memories, and created space for new treasures and new adventures.
The periodic purge that comes with a move is cathartic, in many ways.
We can extend the sort into our emotional and professional lives as well.
Evaluate what is in your life to determine what is still serving you and what may need to be ended. For Veterans transitioning, explore what can be let go and what you need to retain. And know that it’s okay to let go of beautiful things.
