Living on a busy road I used to always keep my sheers closed. This allowed light to filter in while decreasing prying eyes. Come Spring I opened my windows to let the cross breezes cleanse the winter air and once strong breeze blew the sheer open over the couch so it didn’t float back into place.
I discovered that I absolutely loved this so it has stayed “blown” open.
My view isn’t fantastic but I can see a tall branch of a bush, the metal, glass, and brick of my building’s entrance way with trees as a backdrop, and I have been able to watch black wasps, white cabbage moths, and the birds that hunt them all summer long.
I have no intention of putting the sheer back in place.
There is a dreamy quality to the way the sun filters through the tree leaves and plays on the glass windows and white sheers.
It makes me feel lighter, airier, less stagnant.
It has me thinking of how to make my whole apartment feel the same airy lightness.
Lightness has become my word. I want to feel, be, and embrace lightness.
What does that mean exactly? Well, I could consult a dictionary but I think in my case it’s more of a feeling than an actuality.
Bright. Less. Calm. Clean. Fresh. Unincumbered. Open. Cyclical. Movement of energy, not things. Uncluttered. Clear. At peace. A choice to let things go rather than hold and stagnate. A sweet surrender to the Universe.
This doesn’t mean doing nothing but it does mean letting go of what isn’t serving me, supporting me, or letting go of things that add unnecessary stress.
Lightness is not void of extremes. It’s not about giving up excitement, joy, curiosity, and depth. It’s about choosing a way that supports my vision, not about what society thinks I should want, do, or be.
I can translate lightness into décor by opting for a lighter colours, smaller couch that allows for more space and less heaviness. I already began this over these past few years by opting for a while bed frame, table, sheers, chair covers, and continuing my purging journey.
I can translate lightness into spirit by shedding the beliefs pushed on me by my upbringing, society, and allowing myself the space to breathe, explore, and experience as I find my path to inner fulfillment.
I can translate lightness into my mind by learning to let go of things I have no control over, especially things from the past that have come and gone. Like my anger, although justified, it has no where to go but fester inside of me.
I can translate lightness into my body by breathing, meditating, and making space to let my body rest when it needs it. I am my own worst enemy when it comes to expecting more and more from myself and that is never the wisest thing to do.
Lightness may mean different things to different people and it may shift in personal meaning throughout time. We evolve, we grow, we change, so should our visions of life and ourselves.
I don’t know how long I will feel the need for lightness as my focus, I’m sure it will become a part of my life forever. When I’m ready a new word will emerge to show me the way to finding exactly what I need.
For now, I will pursue lightness in a natural way. With flow, openness, clarity, and love.
