Why Suffer Twice?  

I have an amazing life these days.  Writing, creating art, and helping people sort out and move away all sorts of things in their lives that prevent them from doing what they want to do and being who they want to be.  I call myself, formally, a spiritual director or spiritual companion.  But, what that really means is, I help people think about their life, I try to keep them in the present moment, and figure out what they need to do to let go of old ideas and objects in order to move into a future that is open to simplier, and more meaningful interactions.  

Blah, blah, blah you say.  I will admit, there can be a lot of conversation, a lot of words involved in the process of finding out how one wants to live life.  Mostly though, I am a listener.  And questioner.  I listen to stories and ask questions like, "How does a basement full of memorabelia and antiquities from projects imagined but not finished (or even started) move you closer to the life you want to be living right now?"  or "Where does the anger you have for (that person) interfere with how you want to feel today?  How can that anger be expressed in ways that are construtive to you and your life's plan?"  

What I find is, people always know the answers to my questions.  They may begin with an "I don't know" or they may begin telling me intricate details of the vision they have for the $4000 worth of stained glass they've collected from old churches.  But eventully, they come to the realization that these things are most often distractions, tools used for preventing them from acurately assessing and honestly acknowledging the life they are living.  

Some people are able to re-focus and re-energize their plans for the things they've accumulated, but most discover that they really only need one or two model trains instead of twenty, that they will concentrate on making watercolor paintings rather than watercolors, oil, acrylic, pottery, fiber arts, and woodworking.  Most of the people I work with become a bit resentful of the things they've accumulated.  They resent that they "had" to substitute things in their lives, when what they really wanted was to be valued, loved, listened to.  

I was recently working with an 85 year old woman who struggles to let go of things she does not need.  She struggles to pass up good deals on things that may come in handy one day.  Her children resent that they have to periodically remove enough "stuff" so she can live safely in her house.  Now that she needs to go to an apartment for safety reasons, I was asked to come in and help her figure out what she needs in her new space and what to do with the things she does not need.    

We started slowly, getting used to the idea of not taking everything with her.  We were talking about what clothing could be donated, thrown away, or saved when she picked up a brand new coat with the price tag still on it.  She looked at it, sighed, and threw it toward the donate pile.  "Why suffer twice?" she said as it landed on the pile.

"What do you mean?" I asked her.  

"Well, I kicked myself when I got that thing home.  It was on sale, but it never fit and it's way to red for an old lady to wear.  I should have taken it back a long time ago, I should have," she sighed.  "The decision to buy that coat has caused enough suffering, it's time to let it go."

"What a great philosophy," I said.  "No need to suffer repeatedly."  

"Exactly," she agreed.  "In a year, I'll never remember I even bought it."  And just like that, she let the coat, the coat with the price tag on it, fall out of her life.  

"Why suffer twice?"  This has become a mantra of sorts for me.  Often, when I  come home from my work of helping others purge and organize their possessions, I'll look around and see something I can toss or give away.  There is much freedom and peace in accepting a bad decision, a impulsive purchase, then letting it go.  And sometimes - those bad decisions make great gifts for other people. In releasing them, space is cleared in my home and in my heart.