mighthavebeens

I'm visiting the room of losses in the cellar today, with nothing to add to the shelves full of life lived and lost. Today's mission is actually to empty out a little box full of losses that are a bit squirmy and chameleon-like.  They're called "might-have-beens." Yep, hypothetical things often labeled daydreams or something more vague like hopes.  But I've been thinking that this box and its contents don't belong in the room of losses, regardless of the fact that they represent deferred hopes. 

I have plenty of these might-have-beens and generally I don't sit and ponder them too much until they leave a slight ache inside.  It's the beginning of a new year--of the calendar and of my life, and consequently I usually make some life assessments at this time.  I think when one reaches this age (early 30s), there are plenty of things that have and haven't happened, and it is a natural time to take stock of the situation.  I've decided that this box must go.

I settle myself into the overstuffed chair in the corner with the box in my lap.  One last look.  I lift the lid and let the little shimmery pieces of almost nothingness sift through my fingers.  I catch small glimpses of old might-have-beens: moving abroad, a mountain cafe in Austria, a PhD, marriage, a trip to New York, a happy senior year, kids, words left unspoken, etc.  With a determined sigh, I replace the lid and leave the room, bent on fulfilling my task.

I take the box up to a small hill where the wind is eager to do my bidding.  I flick off the lid and let the might-have-beens float away over the wintery landscape.  Perhaps they will materialize in others' lives or float over the sea.  But I feel a sense of refreshing and cleansing as I look at the now empty box.  I'm choosing to believe that might-have-beens are too flimsy to deal with the weight of really living a full life.  Give me the real stuff!  

And I don't mean that some of those little pieces that are riding on the wind weren't real or important for certain seasons of my life.  Sometimes they carried me or gave me direction.  Sometimes they distracted me or taught me.  But as I said, I am taking stock of the situation, and I have a sense that in order to embrace the full weight of what life is now, they must go.