My mother did the wash every Monday of her life. When she got really old, I volunteered to do it for her. With much coaxing, she agreed, until I told her I couldn’t do it on a Monday. That ended that.
We all like to do some of the same things, over and over. The problems arise when those habits become a yoke around our neck, like when we want to keep too much stuff and realize we are at the beginning stages of hoarding. We can’t let go because our things all have an intuitive connection to people and experiences.
To let go of what I call “the same the same” means letting go of fear. I see it at the music store where I’ve rented space for 34 years. It’s going out of business, and the workers and other teachers now walk around like zombies. My response was to rent a new spot. As I agonize over curtains, chairs, tables, supplies, and a move-in date, I try to roll with the change.
This is a first for me and I like firsts. It’s my own brick and mortar business, Jan’s Music and Education Center in Lebanon PA, where I can teach voice and piano, and do psychic readings and tarot parties without censure. Where I don’t have to worry about the owner’s father coming into my room and spreading cough-making chemicals on the rug. A place I will always feel safe.
Letting go is sad and spooky, whether it’s a friendship, a death, or a job. My plan is to wear my Elvis costume on October 31, the last day at the music store. When I sing “Ain’t Nothin’ but a Hound Dog” and “Love Me Tender,” or ask strangers for a peanut butter and banana sandwich, I’ll ride along on a wave of optimism. I figure it’s the only way to go.