I returned home to my apartment in Venice last week with the urge to go through all of my belongings and minimize, minimize, scale back and lighten, the way that living out of a suitcase for 1.5 months in Puerto Rico and feeling like I had more than enough can do to a person.
I spent a lot of my time in Puerto Rico going on long, present walks around my aunt’s neighborhood in Guaynabo. I was fully immersed in those walk, feeling what was ready to be let go falling off me and what I needed to take in as nourishment from the tropical climate, with all my senses, in every sense, finding its way to me, seeping into me.
Finding myself ready, wanting to let go of physical things coincided with deciding I was ready to let go of certain stories, ideas and perceptions that I realized were starting to feel clunky, heavy or unnecessary. The most recent time someone asked me, meaning it as a compliment, “Why aren’t you married?” I didn’t feel the need, desire or defense to respond. Just a shrug and smile.
And then, as if my body was responding and saying it was on board with all of this letting go, I got super sick, an intense 24-hour stomach bug that humbles and comes as quickly as it goes and leaves me remembering, once again, how very lucky I am to have my every day health.
I don’t really know how else to end this, or what the ending is of continuing to let go, but I know I’m ready.