Monday: Reflection

Lately, I’ve been thinking about what it means to make room.

Not just physically, but emotionally.

I was cleaning up downstairs recently, putting things away, clearing out what had accumulated. And when I was finished, I found myself going upstairs and looking around at what was there.

It made me think about how often we stay focused on what is behind us.

The things we used to have.

The people we used to be.

The places we used to live.

The experiences we wish we could return to.

The memories that carry so much emotion that we keep revisiting them, almost as if remembering them will allow us to experience them again.

There’s nothing wrong with nostalgia.

There’s something beautiful about remembering.

But I wonder what happens when we spend so much time looking backward that we don't quite see what is actually here.

What is upstairs?

What is in this life, today, that I might not be noticing because I’m still holding on to what was?

I think letting go of the past doesn’t mean getting rid of it.

We don’t have to throw away the memories or pretend that certain chapters didn’t matter.

Maybe it means allowing them to be where they belong.

Behind us.

And then turning around and asking:

What is here now?

What relationships are here?

What opportunities are here?

What do I care about now?

What brings me alive now?

What needs my attention?

What do I want to make room for?

There can be a strange kind of comfort in nostalgia because the past is already known.

The present asks something different from us.

It asks us to participate.

To pay attention.

To make choices.

To decide what matters now.

And maybe that is where intention comes in.

Not constantly trying to create a better future.

Not trying to recreate a past we loved.

But looking around at the life we actually have and asking:

How do I want to be here?

So today, I’m thinking about going upstairs.

About noticing what is there.

About letting the past remain part of my story without asking it to be my present.

And about making enough room to actually see—and intentionally live—the life that is here now.