a little moving gift

Moving day is getting closer. It's starting to show itself in the growing piles of boxes stacked around the house and in the shadows and spaces where things are missing. Yesterday I decided to get myself a little moving present.

I find comfort in symbol and ritual. I can understand why people build cairns and get tattoos. I came across a quote a while ago that says, "Put something where you can see it so your mind will remind your heart." That really resonated with me. There are going to be times when your heart can't see past your emotions, but if there's something you can look at it can remind the logic in your head of what you already know is true.

To that end, I got this figurine. It's the "Happiness" statue from the Willow Tree collection. What struck me about it is that her hands are open -- she's not holding on to anything. She has been given this incredible moment, one that she would not have been able to experience if she had her arms crossed, or her hands clenched. Instead, she has opened her arms wide. She was ready to receive the gift because her arms weren't already full of other things.

I imagine that you'd have to stand pretty still for birds to land on you. I can picture the moment that must have preceded the sculpture -- a girl, hands empty, arms open wide waiting with her face turned to Heaven. Did she have any idea that something wonderful was about to happen? Did she even see the birds as they were arriving? Was the gift already hers before she guessed it was coming? Was she just basking in joy of sun on her face when this new wonder appeared?

For me, there's a lot to let go of in the next few weeks. There are things that I have to put down. In the midst of the fear of empty arms, this little figurine is a wonderful reminder that empty arms aren't barren or forgotten; they are ready and expectant.