Reflecting on Progress

We’re on the move again.  Boxes, tape, take-out, late nights, trips to the donation centers (I thought we said we’d given up collecting stuff after the last move!) laughing, snapping — all the accoutrements of moving one’s life.  My Beloved says he is not at his best when moving.  I agree with him – in that he is not at his best and neither am I.

And yet, everyday we make progress by descending more and more into chaos.

What is progress?  I think the very word implies that something is capable of being measured.  In our culture, we think everything that is worth anything must be measurable.   (How many surveys have you been hammered with today?) And that measure is usually compared to an initial measurement known as the “benchmark”.

First the questions: Have we gotten better, richer, poorer, thinner, fatter, older than yesterday?  And then the requisite judgement of whether that measurement falls on the positive (better, richer, thinner)side or the negative (fatter, poorer, older) side.

packingHow many boxes have you packed today?   How many empties are left?  Do we have enough tape?  Did you get the utilities bills cancelled?  Has the mail been forwarded?

When I speak of progress, I believe I am looking something more akin to a task list – and  I wish not to confuse that mechanism with reflection. Reflection is a different animal altogether – and yet might be confused with progress in that they are siblings with very different value systems.

Reflection has to do with looking back – as when one views oneself in a mirror – and evaluating what went well, what did not go well, and, more importantly, what went on –  as opposed to checking off boxes on a list.

Reflection has a yogic moment of pause, a flavor of acceptance, a sense of gratitude, a bit of hope and trust for the next stage, and a blessing for that which is.

So I choose, in this moment,  to reflect on this move and honor it as my life right now – to set aside judging our progress by number of boxes,  to accept that moving is messy, to feel the gratitude for all the people and places and experiences we have encountered here, to trust that as time unfolds all will be well, and to bless the life we have lived in the Pacific Northwest.

In the words of Dag Hammarskjold: For all that has been, Thank you.  For all that will be, Yes. 

Now, where is my list??


About Cherylann

I live a patch-work quilt of a life filled with Family, fiber, flowers, birds, books, psychology, spirituality. Not so much with: cooking (I can do it, I don't like it), gardening (overwaterer, underwaterer: everything eventually dies) :)
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