Those Old Tapes

We are very happy with the place we’ve rented and so is Bradley! The Little Red Carriage House sits on 40 acres with a pond, a barn and lots of open land for Brad to sniff and explore to his heart’s content. When a dog is 14 years old, sniffing and exploring replace all the other activities like jumping, running and wrestling. Oh, and he still loves to take long naps in the back of our pickup truck. It gladdens my heart to know that in what is likely the last chapter of his long life, he is content.

Bradley’s F-150

Beth has done a great job helping all of us nest in our new location. The laundry is complete and most of what we need from the camper is now inside of the house. There will be some moving around of items, of course, but the basics are all there with the exception of a great bed. Yesterday, we took a trip to Yorktown Heights where we have a storage unit to pick up our wonderful bed – one of the few furniture items saved from our estate sale. The one in the Little Red Carriage House is passable, but once you’ve had a premium mattress you can never go back. (Well, at least that’s the case for this Prince of Rye Brook!)

Feeling-wise, I woke up with some anxiety. I lay in bed for a while letting some of the feelings envelop me. Then I moved into a gratitude practice naming all of the people who have supported us during the mobile part of the Adventure and are still available to me, now. I am looking forward to speaking with some of these friends by phone as the last days of summer turn into fall and I try to keep the mantra of “steady as she goes” at the top of my mind. There are no emergencies here and no critical health issues on the immediate horizon, so why am I anxious?

It’s those old tapes.

I remember in my bones what it was like to own a home, run a business and manage a family and my body is tightening up as if that is all beginning again. But it’s not. We’re renting and it’s not my job to do the upkeep on this home or property.

The businesses are doing fine, so that old tape can be turned off. We have work booked, some money in the bank and Beth’s yoga remains a foundation for our income.

And my family is okay. Everyone is moving toward what they love and away from what doesn’t serve them. This is good stuff.

So, this old tape of WORRY started playing, but now that I’m conscious of it, I can address it. I should say, “we can address it,” because I shared my thoughts with Beth and that helped me release some of the tension. The old tape is destined for the trash heap!

Instead, I can dance, breathe, hike, laugh or rest. I can write, wander the property with Bradley, strum my guitar or sing with Beth. I can stare at the stars, call a friend, ask for a hug or watch Mel Brooks and Red Skelton on Johnny Carson (did that the other day). I’m a lucky guy to not need to shop, drink, work or create some other form of distraction from what is. I can be present.


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