THE PANIC CRASH

Home and security are powerful forces. Disrupt those, and you disrupt the soul, the emotions, the mind, even perception.

Our real estate agent came over to discuss listing our home for sale. We’ve been planning this moment for months, mulling over the idea for years. Now that we’re faced with the moment to make it real…. Panic! Utter panic! Gary went through it one day, and I consoled him. Then I went through it two days later and tried to console myself.

Suddenly our entire rationale for change seems absurd. Our goals seem insane. How could we have ever thought this made sense? We have a beautiful home, full of comfortable places to sit and interesting things to do and a cozy nest to sleep in. The grounds are full of blossoming flowers and fresh salad greens and berries and fruits. My rose garden uplifts my spirits every time I pass by. Our dog loves our pet bunnies, and will miss them when they go to live with some friends. Here we are disrupting the animals lives, the gardens, our own lives and the lives of our friends and neighbors. What are we torturing ourselves for?

…and so on. The panic complaints get pretty far-fetched after awhile.
We keep returning to our plan, with varying levels of gusto. Our brains want to proceed, but our hearts are torn by leaving our home.

The wise real estate agent told us that we needed to say goodbye to our home and garden. She said that, in her experience, if a seller doesn’t actively relinquish the home as their own domain, it won’t sell.

It’s probably true. I have dabbled with saying goodbye. Today I said goodbye to the living room, with its pretty fireplace and mantel with a friend’s sculptures on it. I tried saying goodbye to the mountains outside our window, but the place we intend to move to has a great view of the opposite side of it. No point in saying goodbye to the eastern face, when we’ll still be looking at the western face. I said goodbye to a floral painted vase, that I bought right after my divorce 15 years ago. I think of it as my independence vase, representing my own tastes rather than the ex’s. I experimented with standing in the hallway and looking at the house and picturing it as someone else’s. It was an odd feeling, but I think I can do it.

This evening I was in a friend’s home. My guts ached with a longing for the security they have in their home. They’re not pulling up roots. They get to keep their possessions. Clearly I haven’t said a sincere goodbye yet.

It is strange to be feeling this way! Our adventure has been so important to both of us, but now we’re feeling the entire spectrum of basic human emotions about security. It’s humbling. I realize that I thought I was beyond those feelings. Hah. My self-expectations are high, but my humanity is as vulnerable as everyone's.
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© Copyright 2005 bonnie willow.