This time? I need a simple mattress…

This post is part of “Coming Home to Me” …a series that will explore my owning my right to own my life and live it by establishing it in thought–the where each one of us dwells–and defending its rightful expression outwardly.

“This time? I need simple” I thought as I walked down the aisles of the mattress collection.

“This time? I need easy” I thought now in store #2, sampling the offerings. Store #1 overwhelmed me.

“This time? I want to just look for the bed for the now,” I heard my heart defend. (That internal motherly wise self always knows when you just need that honey, it’s for the right now”). I’d finally opted out of the mattress specialty stores #1 & #2 and found my way to practical: store #3: Sears.

I spotted a set at a price that intimidated me enough to consider backing down. But I reminded myself: “Tre, you need a mattress.”

And it was on sale.

And it came with their free delivery.

The gimmicks and up-sells in big fine red print tend to echo after a while.

And their delivery also promised “removal of old mattress.”

I paused and sighed over that phrase “removal of old mattress.” I pondered much about what we give up when we shed things outgrown. And what we say no to in terms of modes of behavior and life style choices that no longer support our now.

And while this post isn’t the place for me to brainstorm all the many types of mattresses that have housed me and the why’s and how come’s behind each one, in a flash as memory does sometimes, I saw at least a dozen of all the places that have been home to me over the past few years out of necessity, survival, and doing what one must.

And chuckling at that imagery, the saleswoman asked, “Something I can help you with dear?”

I opted out of telling her why I didn’t have a mattress for removal.

When it was all said and done, 30 minutes later i was the proud new owner of a mattress set to be delivered in 3 days.

So why were the tears flooding my eyes as I walked to my car seeing my pup’s gleeful expression?

Because of all I hadn’t said as I walked into that store to do a transaction.

And because of all I’ve never said or disclosed about my story of survival and my determination to triumph.

How do you hug the heart of each person of your now, strangers really, and thank them for sharing humanity with you and adore them for being a part of your now? For being the threads of familiarity and comfort that echo and shape the stability of the moment and give structure to the sense of home you are creating, yet again?

The gal behind the counter had no idea the story that walked into her department to pick out a mattress. (Imagine if we embraced all the one another’s in our day realizing the story and journey they’ve walked, and all they present to us in their showing up?).

She did ask “Is this just for one?” I didn’t really respond. Funny question. In ways. So much assumed. In ways.

And yet the tears out-poured more out of gratitude for perserveering and not giving up, for pressing on determined to not cave.

But my right now and for a while now has been and continues to be all about establishing grounded-ness in my work and the many varied expressions of it while solidifying what’s essential for the now.

And while the inner scolding and shunning voice luring me questionned  “why has it taken me this long and how come there’ve been so many dwelling places?” yanked and tugged at my heart, instead, I resisted its lure, fought through my tears and tired heart and defended: “I am standing, in this now moment, as ever I am able. I am standing and knowing and living this life and doing my work as best as I know how. That is enough. I am enough. Now.” (The scoffing voice loathes to be one – upped and it’s a great way to squelch it).

I drove off reminding myself to keep thought so aware of the right now and to stop heeding the lures to ruminate or review or rewind or go over the past.

~~~~~~~~~~

A few days go by.

I get a call.

Mattress no longer in stock. It will be another week.

I chuckle.

I used to react in anger to stuff like that and get all willy nilly. I used to think some system or ‘other’ let’s just say had power to impact my now. I used to spend millions of hours reacting.

Now?

I just chuckled and thought “there’s another way.”

I canceled the purchase.

And I felt again: “This time I need simple.”

“Back to craigslist,” I rallied.

But no. “Not a freebie this time. It matters honey,” I heard my internal mother remind me.

And my wise sister within reminded me of all the daily rentals, weekly rentals, short term, long terms of the past 3 years, and all the many different types of bedding I’ve outfitted for myself…Surely surely i was worth a brand new one.

“Brand new doesn’t have to mean spend through the roof. But simple, Tre. Keep the process simple.”

My head needed that.

My past has done it all to stake a claim: I’ve hauled em and carried them down flights of stairs.

Anything to secure bedding.

Anything to secure a home.

Anything to secure stability and a life that was mine again.

Anything to own my right to my home ….again….wherever it would be.

This was so much more than a mattress purchase.

This was an investment in me…in my life…in my right to own my life and live it fully, now, this moment.

No longer in wait for some distant someday possibilities of what I thought would warrant the ‘right’ time to invest in a ‘real’ mattress…as I’ve learned good doesn’t await us anymore than we left it behind, but is simply present, available, accessible, ours.

No longer in regret over what didn’t come together or hasn’t happened…having learned a bit more about being, not being ‘about.’

No longer in numb existence of just coping…having learned every moment is new and fresh and now and whole as it is and I am fully alive to embrace it.

No longer according to the preconceived shoulds and supposed to’s…having learned for the now so much of what we think we ought or supposed to do is a false view.

And no longer in retaliation to the rejections and shunnings, scoffings, denyings…having learned so much of what I’ve warred against is my conclusion of my interpretation of others’ actions…and that in spite of all, nothing can stop how or why I love.

No this time, wise one in me knew the now is  and that present.

‘You need to keep this one simple girl.”

So giddy was I when I found Brian Logan of New Hampshire (the “live free or die” state…dontcha love it?) Furniture Direct.

Gracious and pleasant mannered, Brian let me browse, without following me, without giving me gimmicks or upsells. Ahh. No harassment or cajoling. A normal process.

I felt safe even though the warehouse was huge.

And he had maybe 4 options by the time I described the type of feel i wanted.

Could I believe I was even allowing myself that bounty?

After Motel 6’s special sufficed so many times, I’m actually allowing myself the choice of comfort level? Yes. I was owning my right to choose. And feeling in so doing, I was helping others defend their right to do so.

Big for me.

Huge actually.

20 minutes later? Brian’s loading my car with the mattress set assuring me it won’t fall off.

I’m not so sure.

I’ve come with a few bungees but I was only prepared to load the boxspring on top, thinking surely the mattress would bend a bit and fit inside the SUV.All the futons had. And so had their disassembled frames.

“Honey, this is a mattress, not a futon,” my internal mother gently reminded me.

Oh. I thought…and pondered yet again how I’d love to acquire a better physics’ sense somehow…

Brian assured me the weight of both was necessary ontop.

“And I’ll throw in some ratchets. You’ll be all set.”

I started asking “What’s a ratchet?” and heard the nudge “Tre, just let the man do this.”

(It’s rare for me to allow that. I’m shedding stubbornness and ego too, did I mention?).

He’s shaking his head while I was showing him how much space the inside of the SUV had (Honda Element).

‘Nope it’s gotta go on the roof.’

I swallow. “You can do this girl. You’ve driven across country solo 3 times. you’ve hauled furniture all over the place. You can drive a mattress home.’ My rallying bugle call self sometimes comes outa nowhere.

Compassion takes over.  I’m not about to ask about delivery options.

It’s late.

He’s ready to leave to make another delivery.

I wanna bring this baby home and sometimes, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

This time, it wasn’t about poor me.

Yep. Shed the poor me syndrome a while ago. And though she comes outa nowhere sometimes when I’m exasperated, I tossed her in the dump along with ‘shoulds’ and ‘supposed to’s’.

This time? My need for ‘simple’ would find me driving my mattress set home.

And no sooner would I arrive than my neighbor does as well and offers to help me offload it upstairs.

And now? sitting on the set? typing this post?

I am home.

I’m on a bed.

Mine.

A real mattress…set.

In my bedroom.

In my apartment.

In my now home.

In the now home that is mine.

It’s simple really.

Just like I’d told my heart I needed.

“Pilgrim on earth, thy home is heaven. Stranger, thou art the guest of God.” Mary Baker Eddy