I am sitting in my office alone. The parent who was supposed to call at 5 requested a last-minute change to 5:45. I have no computer with me, just my phone, several pieces of blank white paper, and a pencil. I rarely find myself with forty-five unscheduled minutes, particularly on Wednesdays and Thursdays when our daughter Rachael is here and we are working on our eBay business.

Today, Ray, Rachael, and I ended at 3 because we were all tired after doing lots of physical work since early this morning. We moved furniture, organized, and sorted the last (or almost the last) items from our relocation to Ojai two years ago. At that time, we brought our whole household, a full nursery of plants, and an entire Antiques and Collectibles eBay business. Lots of stuff. Since then, we have spent many days working through what we need and don’t need, and now we are at a new phase: getting rid of items that we thought we wanted to keep but now realize we don’t. Extra dishes, kitchen utensils, clothes, chairs, and tables that seemed so very important when we arrived, but no longer fit in the world we now inhabit.

This begs the question of how many possessions, activities, or even people once worked so well in our lives but now no longer do? Time, space, and place dictate some of those needs and relationships; they feel right at that moment in our lives. However, sometimes it’s important to assess who we are now versus who we used to be. Solid friends will remain, but sometimes acquaintances will fall by the wayside. Growth and change are part of living. If not, then stagnation becomes the status quo. However, even stagnation is a change from what had been to a state of holding on, not moving, willing ourselves to stay the same no matter the costs. In those times, perhaps we are, in fact, changing internally, emotionally, and even physically, but the shift is so gradual that we don’t even notice it. Then, voila! The present begins to reflect our current status, and we find ourselves in a moment of realization.

We live in a world that shows us daily the constancy of forward movement: dawn, day, dusk, and night are a predictable pattern that marks our existence. Birth, life, and death are stages that let us know that even if we insist on sitting still, doing nothing, time will reveal a slow but inevitable shift. We all know that change can be challenging, and the status quo can be comforting. But change we will, whether we like it or not, and with that comes days like today. Sorting through what now no longer fits or is needed and lightening my load. For Ray and me, it is a movement toward that final phase where possessions become a burden to others as we become too old and infirm to deal with them. We are doing our best to get a jump on all of that, so our kids (hopefully, at some distant year in the future) are not cursing our names because of all the possessions we have fiercely held onto.

Today was a good day. A nod to the inevitable while feeling healthy enough to actively deal with what needs to be done. Life today is different from what it was just two years ago. As life changes, so do we. That’s good. We are outgrowing the old.