Emptying | Becoming Pleroma
Seven years ago, I received an unmistakable instruction from the Lord. To empty my home and myself, sell most of my possessions, home furnishings, paintings, housewares, clothes and anything that was basically not nailed down, and consecrate myself and my house, for a season.
It took seven weeks of pouring through every single item I had accumulated over the previous 35 years to list them on the online auction Everything But The House. Some things were easy to part with and others more painful. Such as, the beautiful ivory chiffon Marilyn Monroe style halter dress and shawl I had custom made in Rome. It was exquisite, and cost a small fortune. It sold for less than fifty dollars having never adorned my body.
The uncanny perspective/insight of my friend Theresa, made parting with it a waterfall of tears. “Why didn’t you ever wear that fabulous dress Pauline?” she asked, and without waiting for a response added “I think you bought that dress believing you would wear it on your wedding day”.
It wasn’t until I had been called out that I, in fact, knew that was indeed the truth. Sometimes another person's perspective can save you. Even if it breaks your heart a second time.
There were more unrealized hopes and dreams buried secretly in the mounds of stuff I had accumulated. One such thing was a black cotton woven blanket I purchased from a Quechua woman in Peru. Boodles, my cat of almost 21 years, used to snuggle with me on it. As I clutched it tightly unsure if I could part with it, a wave of sadness rose from a place still grieving within me. And I heard a gentle voice saying “Don’t hold on to sadness.”
Letting go of all those things allowed me to come face to face with many unidentified desires, unrealized dreams and unhealed wounds.
They symbolized parts of my lived and unlived chaotic, messy life. Reflected back to me through the readback lines of friends, and distant pangs of loneliness aching to be reckoned with.
Coming home to an empty house a few days after the sale was like walking into a familiar place beckoning to be explored. Daring me to imagine what wonder could arise from the emptiness.