The last few days have been very informing for me. As I watched Dancing on Ice last night, stretched out on the sofa, I was gradually moved around the room like a chess piece as the remainder of the carpet was cut up and removed quite literally from under me. Strange certainly, enjoyable certainly not.
I’ll rewind about 10 days to reveal the source of the upheaval. The ever-listening Universe has provided me with a new lounge carpet, something I’ve wanted for a while but didn’t feel was a priority when funds are limited. I’m thrilled and delighted with the result as it was fitted only this morning. Someone rang me out of the blue saying they wanted to treat me to a new carpet – I had mentioned my desire for one some time ago. Fireworks, excitement, gratitude fired simultaneously within me. Off we went last Saturday to choose this new and long-awaited item of luxury. Fitting a week on Monday the man said.
Yesterday, everything had to be removed to prepare the room. How I hate upheaval. All that was left were the sofas and, thankfully, it was dry so they went through the French doors on to the lawn (I use the term loosely) during fitting. It’s chucking it down now so, again, thanks for keeping the weather systems at bay earlier.
It had become apparent that my method of working (having planned quickest route from A to D) varied from that of Husband. You’d have been proud of me because I stepped back and let Husband and Son do it their way. Proud of myself on this one because I do like to do things my way but finally – and it’s only taken half a century to achieve – relaxed into knowing that all roads lead home. The job got done and on time.
This was very much a physical representation of change and all that was necessary to achive the outcome – wonderful new carpet which enhances and pulls together all the colours – but somewhere among the piles of furniture, etc, came the supressed realisation that change of any sort involves planning and a period of discomfort and adjustment – and a letting go of the ‘my way or no way’ mentality. It got me thinking about times when opportunities weren’t snatched from the hand of Fate because the thought of change and discomfort (growth?) seemed uncomfortable.
Is it because I’m now ready for other aspects of life to change that a knowingness rose within me? From the dreaded physical upheaval that’s prevailed over the last couple of days has arisen a clarity of thought that’s as welcome as the new carpet.
The animals are just settling down, having thought we were emigrating I’m sure. Mirrored in their behaviour were my own insecurities. To add insult to injury, the last bastion of normality crumbled this morning when the Alf’s basket was moved from my office to the kitchen; he was bound to announce the arrival of the carpet fitter and I was on a call. Mind you, there’s always a silver lining – basket was near enough to the kitchen table to look pleadingly at Son as he enjoyed a leisurely breakfast. Family reckon I’m the soft touch around here but it wasn’t long before Alf was enjoying a morsel or two without even having to leave his basket. Well, they do say it’s a dog’s life . . .