Beyond all the physical difficulties of my move to a new house, there is a psychological—or even spiritual—trial for me.
I’m at the time in my life when a man wants a settled, tranquil existence, devoid of physical and emotional tensions. The move is fraught with every kind of strain. I have no time to read, write, listen to music, play the piano, meditate, contemplate, or muse. I won’t be able to use my computer during the move. Maybe I won’t even be able to listen to the radio. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to cook or eat at home. Life disruption writ large.
As noted earlier, I am forced to say good-bye to so much that I have loved. That has wakened in my mind the feeling that the move is analogous to death. What will it be like when I have to say farewell to everything? At my age, that moment can’t be too many years away. Maybe the move offers me the opportunity to rehearse the mental and spiritual practices for finding peace.
Meanwhile, I’ll handle the challenge of the move. I’m adept at living through chaos. My survival of the fall of Saigon and my ability to arrange for the escape of my 43 subordinates and their families shows what I can do. But it won’t be painless.
This blog will reflect the disarray that the move is subjecting me to. I may not be able to post at all. If so, I ask my readers to bear with me. I’ll be back in top form once I’m settled in my new house. Be patient.