Letting Go

We finally got to move into our lake house when Greg retired in December. It was originally meant to be a weekend retreat while we were living outside of Houston but before construction even began, we were transferred to Canada. We went ahead with our plans to build it but decided to put it into the rental pool rather than leaving it to sit empty for three years.

It rented sporadically all year but was booked solid every summer and showed little sign of wear and tear to boot. A management company handled everything and our profit helped pay the mortgage. Can't complain about that!

So here comes summer again and even though this house has become our permanent residence, we've decided to open it up for renters. I know a lot of people couldn't do it for a lot of different reasons but it bothers me not a wit. The main reason is because it may be the only way I'll get to move back home to NY, even if it is just for the summer. 

But there's a sub plot going on that I didn't anticipate. After being in a rented apartment in Calgary for 3 years and renting out our house, I feel no strong attachment to our stuff. It's wonderful. Of course, we have family heirlooms and personal items locked up in an undisclosed place, but I've been able to let go of everything else: furniture, bedding, towels, kitchen wares, books. I feel very light and free.

I like it. Stuff can weigh you down. Your life can become so consumed with organizing, cleaning and rearranging your stuff that the joys of living pass you by. I didn't realize that until now. I'm letting it all go...allowing strangers to worry about my stuff so I can get out and live.