Six years ago, my house burned down. Yep. Not completely demolished; but the entire kitchen, my bedroom and half our living room was black from soot/fire/smoke/water; like- forks-and-knives-floating-through-my-bedroom-type water.
There were a million memories that I have of the ensuing weeks but the most poignant one is the memory of my bed. We had just moved into this new apartment from North Carolina … and where we had lived in North Carolina was right on the woods. I usually fell asleep to crickets and woke up to this sliver of light streaming into my room… and my bed, oh, that bed. I slept so well in that bed…usually 12-13 hours a day including an afternoon nap- I was a rock star in high school and I have absolutely no idea how I did it taking time for that much sleep- maybe it was because of that much sleep… either way… I had some of the most delicious rests in that bed….You know the type of sleep where you wake up feeling like you’ve just slept for ten years and your whole body is rested and calm? Yeah, that type of sleep.
Fast forward two years to me standing in my rain boots in my new-now-demolished bedroom staring at my North Carolina bed… it was black from the soot/fire and kind of sunk in in the middle… This bed that brought me so much comfort and sleep and happiness… destroyed.
In the few days after, I was angry, tired, surprised, and quite frankly indignant. Excuse me!? I owned that bed, that bed was mine.
But no. That’s the point. This fire was probably one of the coolest things to ever happen to me and created a powerful paradigm shift that changed my life. It reminded me that I can buy up the entire NYC skyline, but if an earthquake comes or a tsunami or a terrible fire... its all gone. I don’t really own a freakin thing. Yes, I can appreciate the comforts of certain material possessions and yes of COURSE I like buying things when I can afford to- but as far as putting a ton of emotional stock into a bracelet, shoes, a purse... no way.
The real stuff in life, the most important, joyous, amazing lovely things, can never be burned, taken away, stolen or lost. Some of my best “sleeps” (not a word but using it anyways) were in that bed and usually, if I’m having a bad night of insomnia or annoying NYC sleep.. I imagine I'm in my old room in NC listening to the crickets and waking up to the Carolina sun... and quite frankly, the bed has a lot less to do with my peace than I thought. Knowing that the happiness and relaxation is in me and not attached to something material that can be taken away is the best part:)
There were a million memories that I have of the ensuing weeks but the most poignant one is the memory of my bed. We had just moved into this new apartment from North Carolina … and where we had lived in North Carolina was right on the woods. I usually fell asleep to crickets and woke up to this sliver of light streaming into my room… and my bed, oh, that bed. I slept so well in that bed…usually 12-13 hours a day including an afternoon nap- I was a rock star in high school and I have absolutely no idea how I did it taking time for that much sleep- maybe it was because of that much sleep… either way… I had some of the most delicious rests in that bed….You know the type of sleep where you wake up feeling like you’ve just slept for ten years and your whole body is rested and calm? Yeah, that type of sleep.
Fast forward two years to me standing in my rain boots in my new-now-demolished bedroom staring at my North Carolina bed… it was black from the soot/fire and kind of sunk in in the middle… This bed that brought me so much comfort and sleep and happiness… destroyed.
In the few days after, I was angry, tired, surprised, and quite frankly indignant. Excuse me!? I owned that bed, that bed was mine.
But no. That’s the point. This fire was probably one of the coolest things to ever happen to me and created a powerful paradigm shift that changed my life. It reminded me that I can buy up the entire NYC skyline, but if an earthquake comes or a tsunami or a terrible fire... its all gone. I don’t really own a freakin thing. Yes, I can appreciate the comforts of certain material possessions and yes of COURSE I like buying things when I can afford to- but as far as putting a ton of emotional stock into a bracelet, shoes, a purse... no way.
The real stuff in life, the most important, joyous, amazing lovely things, can never be burned, taken away, stolen or lost. Some of my best “sleeps” (not a word but using it anyways) were in that bed and usually, if I’m having a bad night of insomnia or annoying NYC sleep.. I imagine I'm in my old room in NC listening to the crickets and waking up to the Carolina sun... and quite frankly, the bed has a lot less to do with my peace than I thought. Knowing that the happiness and relaxation is in me and not attached to something material that can be taken away is the best part:)