Years ago, when I lived in Chicago, I banked downtown. Don’t ask me why, but my bank was in the Loop, on LaSalle Street, smack dab in the heart of bedlam. With everyone circling around in a maze of one way streets and scanning meters, it’s a shame there isn’t a means of communicating. It seemed I was always parking a mile away and scrambling for quarters to avoid a pricey garage for an in and out trip. Yes, there is always the option of public transportation, but if you could nail a parking spot instead….the “L” took twice as long. My best friend had a jeep and we could park that thing ANYWHERE it was so teeny tiny. She also had this amazing knack for finding a spot. I may have the bubbly bobbing “parking angel” on my dashboard, but she’s falling down drunk half the time. Whenever I make take a quick turn, the angel's on the floor. She means well but when I stand her back up, she only falls down again. More often than not I was big city blocks away. If I didn’t have enough quarters I might have chanced it, until I got the boot on Wabash. I was coming out of Crate n’ Barrel, after some last minute Christmas shopping. I cannot remember why I would have gone to Crate and Barrel in the first place, and downtown besides, but I was. I couldn’t pass up the rockstar parking right out front, quarters or not, I was doin it. When I was done shopping, I came through the turnstile and there it was…the notorious yellow Denver boot….the heaviest anchor on dry land.
Before I tired of downtown banking and before the birth of plastic money, I came out of the bank with my cash…..a lady was blocking the turnstile with her “mobile home”, a shopping cart. She had it organized like a closet. The bedroom was stored on the shelf underneath where the pop normally goes. She was dressed in plastic and having an in depth conversation with her sunglasses. One hand holding the mirrored glasses and the other one waving around like a bird in flight. She seemed to be in an argument she was losing, until she started laughing and rolled along. I came out of the turnstile and started walking. After the Denver boot incident, I played it safe. I had about a 6 block walk and she was moving slow, but I hung back and followed her. Upon further investigation, her traveling closet had many strategically placed plastic bag drawers full of many things one might need. The mop sticking out of the cart was like a bicycle flag. She had a Furby attached to it. I got a feeling of ownership while following her….she owned her home, her life. She wasn’t asking anything from anybody. She did seem a little “off” with the sunglasses thing and all, but I don’t know if she was any less happy than anyone else. I know I cannot compare outsides to insides. I am certain of that. She had her home and if offered another one, I got the feeling that she wouldn’t take it. Her home was the open road and she wouldn’t know what to do within the walls.
I was scared to commit, but I did buy a house many years ago. When I was in the process of looking around and deciding on one, I heard a term quite often, “starter” home. This is a good “starter” home. I began to feel as if the home I was buying would never be good enough in the “long run” …..and it goes without saying that I will want a bigger, better home in the next “3-5 years”, when my “real life” starts. Ok nothing is permanent, but must I buy a house and plan to sell it at the same time. Moving is so overwhelming, why unpack the boxes. I mean I get it….but still. When I refinanced, I was asked the same type of question. "When do you plan to move?" I don’t know. I do not have any idea. I’ll move when I sell it, and I’ll sell it when I feel like it. Right now I don’t feel like it, so I won’t. I get asked, "Are you STILL in that house over by the train tracks?"The term “starter” home could lend itself to living in the future…..not being present and enjoying what I have right now.
I love my pergola and my fenced in yard. I love my spruce tree and all the plants and flowers. I love the purplish blue siding on top that you can’t buy anymore. My chimney is rock and it looks like a cottage I’ve seen in Switzerland. Even though my cat lives across the street at my neighbor ladys house, he still comes to visit. When I move, if I move, my house will belong to someone else and that’s that. This too shall pass so I'm enjoying it until it does….until something changes….and it always does. I have been unhappy in my house, but it had nothing to do with the house. I enjoy things, but I' m also detached from them. The only thing important about things is how they make me feel…but I’m careful, I am aware. Things are temporary and transient, flexible and fragile…….unlike love, which is eternal. I cherish the moments I can’t bring back, the words I can’t re-hear, the kiss I can’t un-kiss, the touch I can’t un-feel. The gratitude and presence of God I feel when I create something. The peace I feel when I Honor My Truth!
Debra Hadraba
I invite you to join Honor Your Truth
Inspiration+Action
This is one of my favorite topics. I have always taught my kids and tried to 'encourage' my husband about the importance of the little things in life.
To give someone a gift for example that has a meaning behind it and doesn't cost much or even has no cost at all. I call it the thoughtful approach... I think that it tends to bring out a person's creativity.
I definitely know it is the little things that matter in a big way.
I know about the little things of enjoyment opposed to the bigger things that can cause you frustration. It's like "looking on the other side of the track" for better things. Peace of mind is awesome! I just love your creativity.
you are one of the joys in my life... 
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