Cleansing

Last year, I got the desire to make some big changes in my life. This happened after a string of traumatic events: the sudden loss of my partner, and with his death, the giving up of future dreams, other painful events that were part of the fallout of this tragedy, and a complete career change to the Coast Guard. A year into the Coast Guard, I joined the small crew of a sailboat and sailed 15,000 kms across the Pacific Ocean from Panama to New Zealand. I was partly trying to put distance between myself and what had happened, but more importantly, I was trying to heal and to live life as fully as possible.

When I came home mid-year for what would become my final Coast Guard patrol, I started to purge and minimize my belongings. While I've always been clean and minimalistic, I had over a decade's worth of collected things from when I moved to B.C. 

It's amazing how our interior and exterior experiences go hand in hand. I wanted to remove painful reminders and change my life. As I started to cull, I realized that much of the stuff equalled unprocessed feelings, attachments to the past or simply phases of life that were over. 

It started with the art on my walls, which were a little dire (imagine cool ship paintings in the middle of dark storms), clothes that I'd worn when I was sick or grieving, as well as things that I held onto out of guilt, nostalgia or because I was afraid to let them go. 

Going through one's belongings is more than organizing. For me, it was processing an archeological dig of feelings and experiences over the past decade and half. Around this time, my old laptop died, taking hundreds of old photos with it. Only a few favorites remained in emails and on Facebook. I would never have let go of these photos, but it was a big relief that they were gone. 

I gave away or donated much of my stuff and replaced it with brighter and newer things, or didn't replace it all. Some of these things had helped me to grieve and had been life rafts during the period of loss. I did it carefully and thoughtfully, though, holding remembrances for lost loved ones and burning some things connected to painful memories.

And speaking of ceremonies, there was one epic day in January where I jumped into the freezing Atlantic Ocean wearing my wedding dress (which I'd never worn), got absolutely pounded by the icy waves, and then jumped out victorious, leaving it to be pummeled somewhere along the snowy Cape Breton coast. Maybe a little crazy, but there is nothing like a crazy ritual to help you release.

When it comes to letting go of physical belongings, there are a couple of things that help me. The easy one is to remember that someone else could use it and enjoy it more than me. The clothes that don't fit or the books that I've read, for example. I packed up the family accordion, which was gathering dust and making me feel guilty for not practising, and mailed it to my brother, whose kids are excited to learn. 

When we get rid of something, it also opens up space for the new. I started painting and doing sea glass art again, and have covered the walls of my house in bright, happy art. My sister says that sometimes the space around the painting is just as important as the art itself. It's true that I enjoy my (fewer) things much more now...those beloved mugs which make morning coffee so perfect :) 

And this is the exciting part - when you get rid of physical belongings, you're opening yourself up to wonderful new things. And they don't have to be physical. Maybe it will be a new adventure or a new friend. Whenever I've sat on the fence about getting rid of something I don't like, I think, "What exciting new thing is this making space for?"

I kept a record of everything I purged, painted or upgraded, and it's impressive. Letting go of reminders of loss as well as old cobwebs from the past is an intoxicating feeling, but you have to confront very painful feelings along the way. When everything is cleaned out, what do you have left without the distractions, attachments and padding? I wrote about this a bit before when I described leaving behind the comforts of a familiar career in communications to join the Coast Guard.

There are some experiences that we always will carry with us, but everything can be alchemized, and although I strongly resist attaching meaning to tragedy, perhaps we are destined to go through some of it. It certainly shapes who we are. Transiting the Panama Canal in the pouring rain, I felt like I was being handed a fresh start, and crossing 15,000 kms of ocean, with two kind, humorous and wonderful shipmates changed me in the best possible way. 

When losses in life occur, they give you the opportunity to embrace life, as it is, now. And getting rid of unwanted stuff is a symbol of this - you release the comforts of the past or fear for the future and live more in the present. I've always been adventurous, but I started to take more risks and challenges these past couple years. To start living more from the heart and less from the brain. 

The biggest risks for me have been the emotional ones. I try leaving nothing unsaid now, erring on the side of saying too much and telling people exactly how I feel. Not hurtful things of course, but that I love them and that they are beautiful. How they make a difference, and why they are special. Because you are! 

Some things are so terrible that no explanation can make sense of them. But as a good friend told me, we have this incredible life force within us that resurfaces if we are patient. We are resilient. Life won't be the same, but joy comes back in beautiful ways.