Inhale. Exhale.
I remember the moment I opened the door and walked into my new home for the first time.
The entryway, small yet inviting, opened up to a living room lit by two-story windows that allowed the sunlight to touch every part of my being.
I let out a huge sigh of relief, so audible that I couldn't help but notice.
Until that moment, I hadn't realized I was holding my breath.
It had been a long journey.
That spring, my now ex-husband and I decided to part ways after nearly two decades. Although we separated amicably, it was still a challenging time for both of us. As we discussed our next steps, we agreed that the house we shared, which I had once called my 'dream home', would not be part of our future paths.
I had adored that house.
Before moving from the city to the suburbs, I had filled scrapbooks with magazine clippings of homes that captured my imagination—homes with character, with nooks for just the right pieces of furniture, fireplaces for cold nights, porches for summer evenings, and attics where I envisioned my children playing for hours.
That house had it all and more.
Yet, over the years, what was once a dream evolved into a burden, reflecting the struggles within myself—who was I without my family of origin nearby? Why had we chosen this house if it wasn't truly what my husband wanted? How did this space contribute to the growing distances between my children, turning our interactions from fun to friction?
These questions surfaced as symbols of deeper issues, pointing to the need for change and realignment in our lives.
Letting go of my ‘dream home’ meant letting go of more than just a structure of brick and wood; it meant letting go of a twenty-year marriage and a lifelong dream of what family meant.
When I opened the door to my new home, smaller and without the old house’s character, something shifted within me.
That deep, releasing breath reminded me that I was finally home.
I had come home to myself, and I could breathe freely again.
I've been in this house now for three years, and I still love walking through its door.
It’s not my 'dream home', and maybe the concept of a 'dream home' doesn’t hold the same allure anymore.
What's important is that I'm at home with myself, comfortable in who I am, and at peace in this space.
This is the essence of slow healing—creating space to breathe, to exhale deeply, and to let go of the burdens that no longer serve us.
It's about allowing ourselves the room to heal gradually, understanding our past, accepting our present, and gently shaping our future.
It’s about making enough room in our lives to discover who we really are, unencumbered by our possessions or our past relationships.
the illusion of perfection
My ‘dream home’ appeared to have everything I wanted: white walls, a pristine white sofa, perfectly curated bookshelves, and spotless countertops.
However, despite its outward appearance of minimalism and peace, it was anything but a reflection of peaceful energy.
Beneath the surface, my inner world was cluttered, mirroring the hidden mess in my closets and drawers.
This facade of minimalism that I maintained was a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me.
I was out of harmony, presenting a serene exterior that didn't match the chaotic reality of my internal state.
Whenever people visited, I felt compelled to keep them at a distance. If they got too close, they might feel comfortable enough to open a closet or drawer and discover the truth: that I wasn’t as orderly as I appeared.
This fear of being truly seen extended beyond my physical space; it mirrored my internal state.
Just like the hidden clutter in the closets and drawers of my home, we often harbor hidden clutter within ourselves—in our bodies, thoughts, and emotions.
We cling to these internal accumulations because they've formed into habits or patterns, or because they serve a purpose, keeping us within our comfort zones.
This emotional and mental clutter, much like the physical kind, can weigh us down and prevent us from moving forward. Recognizing and addressing this internal clutter is crucial for our personal growth and well-being, just as clearing out physical spaces can transform a home into a sanctuary.
from clutter to clarity
I've always aspired to create a ritual of taking off shoes at the front door of my home.
I envisioned neat rows of shoes tucked away in cabinets, setting a calm and orderly tone from the moment we stepped inside.
Despite purchasing shoe cabinets and placing them strategically at the entrance of my ‘dream home’, they remained empty for years.
As I walked into my house, cluttered thoughts and distractions would override my intentions, symbolizing the chaotic and unsettling environment that awaited inside.
It was a far cry from the peaceful sanctuary I yearned for.
Fast forward ten years, and the scene at my front door has transformed dramatically.
Now, in my new home, removing our shoes has become a seamless ritual for me and my children—one that marks the transition into a peaceful space, akin to entering a sanctuary rather than a place of turmoil. But how did this shift occur? How did a task that once felt cumbersome become an effortless, almost beautiful part of our routine?
The answer lies in the clutter—the physical, mental, and emotional clutter that clouded my life and prevented me from embracing simpler, more meaningful practices.
The clutter was more than just objects; it was a manifestation of the noise within my mind and heart. As I began to address this clutter, starting with the tangible mess in closets and drawers, I found that each item I let go of cleared a little more space for clarity and peace.
This process of decluttering wasn't just about making room in my home; it was about making room in my life for the things that truly mattered.
It involved not only the excess kitchen gadgets and unread books but also the social obligations, the binge-watching habits, and the old patterns that no longer served me.
As I discarded these layers of clutter, I found it easier to let go of even bigger aspects of my life that were holding me back—from a home that no longer fit my true needs, to a twenty-year marriage, and even fifty pounds of weight that I carried both physically and emotionally.
Letting go became a daily practice, an essential part of my journey towards a true home that resides not in a specific location but within my heart. It led me to redefine who I am, shedding outdated beliefs and ideas along the way.
This is where healing begins. By creating space, we not only clean out our drawers and closets; we open up new possibilities for our lives. It's about tuning in, listening deeply, and taking inspired action based on what we genuinely need and desire.
Letting go isn't just a step in the journey—it is the journey.
It's the first, crucial step that allows us to finally align with our core vibrations and live the life we've always dreamed of.
three tools for mindful transformation
As we embark on this practice of slow healing, I want to share with you three tools that I encourage you to adopt. These practices help me daily to reconnect with my heart and home, creating a gentle, slow rhythm for healing.
Here they are:
Set Your Intention
“I am letting go of what no longer serves me to create space for that which is meant to be mine.”
Create Space
What can you let go of in your life right now that would create a little more space? In Feng Shui, it's said that if you remove 27 things, your energy will noticeably shift. These "things" can be physical items, unnecessary commitments, or even old habits. Challenge yourself to let go of 27 things. Start small; perhaps begin with clutter in your living space, or consider distancing yourself from toxic relationships or habits that no longer serve you. Making space physically and emotionally invites new energy and opportunities into your life.
Show Up
As you let go of each item, practice noticing and exploring what comes up in your body, mind, and emotions. Ask yourself: What thoughts are you saying to yourself about this practice? What emotions are you feeling about letting go? How is your nervous system responding—are you in fight, flight, or freeze? Be curious about why you acquired each item, why you held onto it, and why you feel ready to let it go now. Write down your observations and reflect on the changes occurring within you and around you.
Watch What Unfolds
As you continue to let go and create space, become aware of what is shifting in your life. Notice if there is more space and freedom, or if you feel uncomfortable with the new openness. Observe how these changes affect your daily life and overall well-being. Are you finding it easier to breathe, move, or rest? Is there a new sense of liberation or perhaps a challenge in confronting the new emptiness? Watching what unfolds allows you to truly understand the impact of your actions and encourages a deeper connection to your evolving self.
These practices are designed to bring you back to a state of mindfulness and self-connection. Slow healing is not just about changing what’s on the outside; it's deeply about exploring and transforming what's inside. As you integrate these tools into your daily life, you may find that healing happens not in leaps and bounds, but in quiet moments of realization and release. This is the power of slow healing—allowing space for growth and transformation at a pace that respects the natural unfolding of your personal journey.
With Love,
