There’s no shame in asking for help.
There’s no shame in accepting help.
These two “facts” have saved me hours of suffering and offered me the chance to feel love and give love.
I’m having two friends come over today to help me pack.
I’m ambivalent about packing, which doesn’t mean I don’t know I need to pack or that I think I can avoid packing.
But I don’t want to examine every thing I own as I decide what will make it into a box and what will leave.
I don’t want to listen to myself tell the same stories I hear from other people every day about why something that doesn’t really matter might matter… someday. Or could matter in the right light.
It’s not rational, I know.
I am moving.
I have sold my apartment.
In two weeks I’ll be sitting at a closing table signing papers and accepting a check from my buyers.
I have to move.
And even in the face of these facts, I can pace around the apartment like a caged animal, searching for a way out rather than through.
That’s why friends are coming over to babysit me.
They will help put things in boxes, no doubt.
But the biggest thing they can do for me is hold me accountable and keep me on the path.
I can’t procrastinate with them here.
So today, I’ll pack a few more boxes and step a little bit closer to the end of a chapter.
Fortunately, it appears that the book has more than a few pages left in it so, just for today, I’ll keep walking.
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