The Blue Velvet Chaise

“When someone says "I Love You," it is imperative that you know if you are loved for "WHAT you are" or "WHO you are."
When the academic qualifications, professionals, positions, possessions, good look, fat bank accounts and all that has been acquired over the years are taken away, all that is left is "Who you are" - Your Personality (character, values, perceptions.)

"We are never truly loved, until we are loved for WHO and not WHAT we are”
~ Olaotan Fawehinmi

I remember my parents hugging close, while slowly swaying to some old song only they could hear, when I was very young.  I could feel their love then.  I wanted to be included so desperately that I tried to wiggle in between their legs.  What child wouldn't?

I've spent most of my life trying to understand what went wrong.  Rarely, if ever, does someone hold a gun to your head and force you to marry.  We all have free will so why do so many people end up divorced.  Is the grass really that much greener on the other side of the fence that it warrants hurting others to get to it?  It's never just about two people.  We are all connected. 

Happy childhood memories far outweigh the sad where my mother is concerned.  When she was present, life seemed like an adventure.  She expressed her artistc abilities then.  Our birthday parties were unique, whimsical affairs.  If a Party City-like store existed at the time, we couldn't afford it, so she came up with  creative work arounds.  I don't remember feeling embarrassed when my friends came over.  I think everyone was in the same boat.

Alot of the things I like to experience as an adult, that are a part of who I am as a person in fact,  I was exposed to as a child by my mother.  The Shakespeare Festival, Broadway musicals, museums and the Russian Tea Room to name just a very few.  There are colorful stories or crazy mishaps associated with each of our adventures.  Reading stands above all.  My mother is a voracious reader.  Even though she lives in another state now, I always picture her sitting in her blue velvet chaise in the corner of her bedroom in our family home, holding a book in her hands, as we talk on the phone.

When she was banished from her marital home, prior to her divorce, she gave me her chaise.  My father hated that piece of furniture with a passion that still seems ridiculously extreme to me.  Needless to say, I have held onto that chair, with white knuckled determination, for over thirty years.  Moving it from one apartment to another at considerable expense.

Recently, I've been on a cleaning tear.  I have this overwhelming sense that possessions take on the joy or negativity of their owners.  I don't want to live in a place surrounded by other peoples angst any longer.  I'm literally looking at and touching each item I find to ascertain how they make me feel.  It's amazing what memories and emotions are being stirred up.   Don't get me wrong, I have either collected or been given gifts that speak to my soul. They are staying!  The blue velvet chaise is gone!

I feel lighter and my home has plenty of room now for new art and funiture that actually reflects who I am and what I believe in.  The Universe has begun to bring new people into my life, now that I have made room for them.