My Closet as a Way Home

It is usually in its most awkward rooms that the special blessings and healing are locked away.

—John O’Donohue

As I work to claim a more integrated identity in this new phase of my life, I am beginning to sense a clearer vision of home and belonging. That vision has three components: (1) protected spaciousness; (2) radical simplicity; and (3) invitational leadership. I’ve come to focus on these three components through listening to poet David Whyte. All three of these components are important not only in my life out in the community but are also vital to my inner life and being. Of course, these components sound fairly academic so I will try to put them into language that shows how they work in my daily life. Here is a story from my own life that involves all three:

One identify that I have had as a rector and pastor is someone who has a messy office. At Emmanuel, folks would often come to see me and offer: “Well, at least it’s not quite as messy as your predecessor’s!” I always felt that I had to apologize for my office—as if, somehow, it was a failure that reflected on who I was. My office showed the truth I tried to hide—I really was a failure. To be honest, I also have had a room at home—wherever we lived—that was messy too. It was a place that I stored items that I “would get to some day.” Another place of failure. Well, now that I am 65 years old, when might “some day” be? Recently, my children have helped me see that the time is NOW. And it is NOT about being a failure but living an integrated, spacious life.

Both of my children have been commenting recently on the amount of stuff that we have accumulated at home. Truth be told, some of the “stuff” is theirs, left with us when they left home for adult lives. Some of it has been passed down from earlier generations. And some of it are possessions, papers and clothing accumulated over the years in all my different lives as attorney, priest, mother, wife and athlete. When my daughter Anna recently asked me: “Doesn’t all that stuff bother you?”—I paused. The answer to her question is a firm YES, but I also realized that much of the stuff has meaning for me. That table reminds me of my mother and meals with the family. That box of photos captures our time in South Africa and several other boxes contain reminders of our lives with our children at home. But, after 65 years of life and inheriting many things from my parents who inherited them from their parents, there is SO MUCH. I remember my father saying to me with a wry smile as he showed me the attic or basement full of family things, “Remember, you’lll have to deal with all this someday.” I tried to avoid those interactions with him when he would show me all that would be left behind. When he died, all those things did come to me and Bryan. Over the years, there have been yard sales and clean-out Saturdays, but there is always MORE. And it also feels sometimes as though I am giving away the memories of my parents and family. The void they left when they died just seems bigger and bigger. At some stage in my busy life as rector and priest, I just gave up—emotionally and physically. I promised myself I would deal with it all “some day.”

When you say you are ready to tackle a part of your life that will end up giving you life, the universe is set into action by your intention to start. Help materializes to get you on your way. For me, there were two events that happened to get me going—(1) plumbing work needed to be done and a closet needed to be emptied before the work could be done and (2) my friend Meg began to inspire me. First, John the plumber called. He was coming Monday. Oh, this is real! As I began to empty out my closet of my clothes into another closet filled with more clothes and piled boxes of photos and memorabilia and other “stuff” unto the floor next to the closet, the old feeling of failure and sadness began to creep over me, to weigh me down. I wanted to stop. My friend Meg said: “Just start with your clothes and only put back what you really love and need. Think of it this way: “ This is what I get to keep!”

Well, it’s taken several weeks and lots of emotional and physical energy, but I did what Meg suggested. It was actually easier than I ever thought possible. That Saturday morning, as I went through my clothes, I realized what I loved and wore often and what I no longer had need of again. First to go, ALL my “power”suits—especially the suits that I bought for those four Bishop elections. That’s not really who I am—or ever was. Second, outfits and separates that I had only worn once or twice or sometimes never. Finally, clothes that were for a different time and body. Outfit after outfit went into the bags to go to Goodwill. And when I looked at my closet, there were only about 30 hangers of clothes—all clothes that I wear regularly for all seasons. There was no need for a second closet ever again.

And here’s the really amazing thing—when I really looked at the closet, I could see that it represented my whole life in a colorful palette of fabrics. There was the summer dress that I wore when I baptized Baby Win. There was the alpaca sweater I bought at the Johannesburg Market with my friend Estelle. There was the jacket that I bought with my camp buddy Donya for Anna’s rehearsal dinner and David and Pateley's wedding and the jacket that was made in Beijing when we visited Jack. On and on, I could see how that closet had become an integrated, spacious and simple space that I actually liked to visit! That closet also showed the times that I was a leader and invited me to keep living that life—as a mother, grandmother, wife, pastor, community member and more. My closet began to show me how space can reflect your vision--to create protected spaciousness, radical simplicity and invitational leadership all at once. By letting go of what is no longer needed and celebrating what remains.

This fall and winter, there are more spaces to tackle. More parts of life to clear out so that I can invite myself to live into the fuller life. By doing this soul space work, I can also feel lighter in my daily spaces to do the work in community with you all. I’ll keep you posted. Keep me posted on your amazing life too. We are all really here to help each other and walk each other Home.

Ponderings: What are some places/space that seem full of heavy emotion that need attending? Where is a place or a situation that keeps calling you to do something about it? Who can come with you as you do that work? Where have you found a more integrated life when you have done some of this work?