About a year ago I moved into a house that had a huge garage
with tons of extra space. Enough that I could store everything AND get my car
in! I was thrilled about the idea that in the summer I wouldn’t wake up with a
very hot car, and in the winter I wouldn’t have to scrape snow and ice off!
That there was still plenty of room for bikes and tools and room to move
around.
The garage though was not attached to the house. Between the
garage and the house was about a dozen steps and a long walkway, so perhaps 50
feet from the garage to the front door. Upon leaving the garage, either I could
walk out the side door where the garage door openers naturally are – or walk
out the actual garage door, which was far more convenient. I choose the latter.
What this meant was that I could use the garage door opener that was velcroed
to the wall in the entry way. That all sounds so convenient and easy.
Yet for most of the first six months I lived in the house, I
would very frequently FORGOT to close the garage door when I came into the
house. Later on in the evening I’d have a thought – did I close the garage
door, and then I’d walk outside to check. Sure enough, it was open. Now I wasn’t
worried about stuff being stolen because I was quite far from town and the
neighborhood was very safe. I was worried about bears and other critters
getting into the garage, so it really was important to close the garage door.
I started reminding myself when I walked out the garage door
to close it when I arrived at the front door. Occasionally this worked, meaning
maybe a quarter of the time. So the reminders became stronger and stronger. My
housemate would also forget so for a while we even had notes in the front to
remind us to close the garage door! And finally after about eight months of
doing this it became automatic to walk into the house and close the garage door.
It actually became so automatic that I would forgot that I even did it, and
then would later have a thought – did I close the garage door?
This whole process has been bewildering and bizarre. Between
the garage door and the front door, about 50 feet, how could I forget something
so simple so often? You know the Buddhist saying – chop wood to chop wood,
carry water to carry water. I thought remembering could be that focused. But in
that 50 feet I have to concentrate on steps, what I’m carrying, getting out
keys for the front door, and ultimately amusement at seeing my dog smiling and
wagging her tail as I approached the glass front door. It’s easy to see how I
could forgot, but still!
At the same time I felt great beauty and ease in that
forgetting. Letting go of something so easily. It had importance and it didn’t.
Like seeing a flower, taking in its beauty and then flowing to the next moment
and the beauty there.
For me, it also brought up the question, why it is we can’t
forget other things that easily. Like when I’m scared to bits by a lightning
strike so close that it shakes the house, or the person who cut me off in the
car earlier in the day, or the unjustified comment at work. I can hang on to
those for hours, or days, … or longer, as we do. It’s fairly certain that those
things have more meaning (meaning we give them) and with that an emotional
context, and so the body and mind hang on.
The question is there though – could we learn to let go?
Maybe not to forget, but to let go so it doesn’t became a lingering gremlin. Maybe
it really is the count to 10 method, or the the idea of just breathe, or any
number of similar concepts. It has been a great reminder for me, and maybe now
for you.
Just 50 feet … a small distance measured in time or space –
to bring our lives into a great ease …
Just 50 feet …
