During our home renovation, I’ve paid close attention when apparent obstacles arise.
My tack is different these days. Instead of resisting, I soften, and get very curious. Perhaps what is presenting is not an obstacle after all, but a moment to review, perhaps change course, and see what else is opening.
Yesterday, Bob, the flooring guy, let us know while we were confirming dates for next week that rather than starting on Monday, he couldn’t begin hardwood repairs until Wednesday. The initial plan had been to repair the red oak floor in the kitchen, and then refinish the kitchen and all the hallways prior to laying carpet in the bedrooms, living room, and family room. We are on a specific schedule–we want to move and have a week to get settled before my husband has minor surgery and is laid up for a bit. My old pattern would have been to tighten and resist change, to worry, and fret, to lie awake at night, to envision hopeless outcomes–all that energy spent on an imaginary future that may not come to pass.
Instead, a kind of inner space opened up. Out of that emptiness, a new plan seemed possible–lay the carpet on Monday, and tape off entryways to the living and family rooms that don’t have doors to reduce the sanding dust on the new carpet. My husband realized the swap opens Tuesday for other small finishing tasks–perhaps Alan the furnace guy, or Scott the electrician can use that available time. This way, we can remain on schedule to move August 1st. Bob blustered a bit about the change in the order of his work, but his blustering is his, not mine. Once he saw that a bit of dust on the carpet didn’t concern me–I surely know how to vacuum–he was able to soften as well.
These skilled tradespeople are awareness in a different, beautiful skin; we are truly not-two. When I knowingly live that, they meet me there.
© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2013
photo credit