Life as a House

My home

I watched Life as a House again recently. It’s both one of my favorite movies and a great metaphor for life. It reminds me of my own dream house — this log home in the woods. How it manifested through my imaginings. What happened in the building of it. And of my decision to now let it go.

In the movie, Kevin Kline plays George, a washed-up architect who gave up on his dreams years ago. He’s divorced from the woman he truly loved, has become alienated from his son, and when the movie begins, he is let go from the architectural firm he’s hated for some time. To top it off, shortly afterwards George discovers he’s dying.Life_As_A_House_movie_image

That’s when George actually begins to live. He finally decides to build the house of his dreams. A house he knows he will never live in. But a house that will bless all who have a part in it. The building of this house is about redemption. It’s about transformation. It’s about letting go of what you love. Even as you let yourself love more deeply. And that’s where true freedom comes.

I’ve been reflecting on this as I get ready to leave behind my own house.

Soon I’ll be headed back to Bolivia to immerse myself in Spanish language school and improve my options to find work back at the U.S.-Mexico border after I return. By summer, I expect I’ll be gone.

It’s hard to think of letting go of this house. Anyone who’s ever visited has remarked on how beautiful, peaceful, and special it is. That’s certainly true. But even more than that — this house has redeemed me. Through its absolute silence and solitude. Which has been both a gift and a curse. In this house, I’ve come to understand the term, “a deafening silence.” I’ve learned the real meaning of loneliness. I’ve also had wonderful conversations with the moon and spent nights praying under a star-filled sky. And I’ve sought and discovered, out of the solitude, a Love that sustained me even, and especially when, I didn’t think I could support myself.

Before this house was built, my friends gathered in a fire ceremony to bless the land and my future home and all who would come. Anyone who has passed through its doors has felt the energy of those blessings. I truly believe I’ve been spiritually protected here.

Something else that will be hard to let go of — the life I’ve known, the friends I’ve made over the years, my community.

Like George, I’m experiencing my own little death. My own bittersweet feelings as I gather with friends I love and inwardly whisper my goodbyes. My recognition that I am going from what is known and comfortable into the unknown.

And, like George, I am leaving behind a house that is part of me. A house that is filled with blessings and positive energy for those who will come after. A house that has its own life.

But my heart is calling me elsewhere. I choose to follow that call.

Sometimes you manifest your dream, only to have to let it go.

For reflection, I share this excerpt from David Whyte’s poem “House of Belonging”

This is the bright home
in which I live,
this is where
I ask 
my friends
to come,
this is where I want
to love all the things
it has taken me so long
to learn to love.

This is the temple
of my adult aloneness
and I belong
to that aloneness
as I belong to my life.

There is no house
like the house of belonging.

Advertisements

About Pauline

I've been a freelance writer and editor for many years and I'm seeking to follow my heart in this stage of my journey, as the major roles in my life as wife and mother have changed. Not sure where this will lead, but I'm taking one step at a time as I listen within.

Posted on January 18, 2016, in Living from the heart, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.

  1. Beautiful. Following your heart is a good thing. Many of us are too afraid to step away from the shore, clinging tightly to all that we know. We may be missing out on a wonderful opportunity for growth. You continue to pursue your dreams, leaving a part of your heart at every turn and enriching the hearts of those you touch. I have been on the receiving end of your travels and am in awe of your sweet and kind spirit. Thank you for being a brief visitor in my life. I love you.

    Like

  2. Poignant, bittersweet, real…thank you, Pauline.

    Sometimes we move on not because we are miserable or in pain, but because we are being called by deep yearnings which we cannot even articulate, which can be fulfilled only through our willingness to step into their mystery.

    Guess the time has come for you to take the next step in your “one wild and precious life,” eh?

    ¡Vaya con Dios!

    Love,
    Rob

    Like

  3. So true, Rob. It is bittersweet to be leaving this beautiful place.

    Like

  4. Well, this made me cry. I guess I’ve known you would be leaving, but I’d hoped for time to get to know you better. Maybe we can have one more time before you leave. When do you leave for Bolivia?

    I have loved and been blessed by your blog; I hope you’ll be able to continue that.

    Every blessing, Grace

    >

    Like

  5. We need to catch up, sounds like you have made a lot of decisions ….

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: