Moving into the New Year

What a year 2015 has been, and 2016 promises to be another year of change and transition. In fact, we are literally moving into the New Year.

Rob sold his office building in Pasadena in November and is moving his office and shop (two rooms full of tools and construction equipment) up to Santa Barbara next week. At the same time, we are moving him out of a guesthouse in Santa Barbara to our place across town. And in mid-January, we will move him out of his apartment in Old Town Pasadena. We have been organizing and packing and planning for several weeks, and I’m grateful we at least got to get away to Mammoth (and a day of glorious skiing) for a few days over Christmas.

All of this moving is crazy-making hard work, and to be honest it has tested our young relationship at times. You learn a lot about your partner when under intense pressure. And we’ve certainly had enough stress the past few weeks to last several years. Thank goodness we also know how to laugh—at the circumstances and ourselves. Rob somehow always knows the exact thing to say to humor me out of a foul mood. And he is a fount of optimism most of the time.

But all this moving also makes me mindful of how much change and transition is still ahead of us. We have been looking for a house to buy, but meanwhile are renting a darling place by the beach in Summerland, a tiny burg just south of Santa Barbara. Tiny is the operative word here; our place is small. It’s been fine for the two of us, but when we add all of Rob’s things from two different residences we will be overflowing with stuff. My tendency is to get rid of most of it, but Rob is a bit of a packrat (in fact, I think he could fall into major hoarding if allowed). So another negotiation is necessary. For now, most will end up in storage. But that is not a long-term solution.

All of this has made me consider just what it means to be settled. I have been in a state of transition since August 2014, when I decided to move to Santa Fe. Most of my belongings went into storage. When I moved back to Santa Barbara a year ago to be with Rob, I remember how good it felt to unpack at least some of my boxes and settle into our new place. For the first time in months I had my own things around me—my furniture and kitchen items, my bedding and clothes, my desk and office supplies.

As we unpacked last January, I realized how many things I really didn’t need—or want. I have learned I can live without most of the things I thought were important to me. And I have come to understand how little I need to be happy. In fact, having less is a path to a kind of freedom, really, that I didn’t know one could feel. It’s a letting go that comes with an emotional bonus. Untethered, unfettered, unburdened.

So, a dichotomy at this New Year. As we pack and move and plan and organize, we also see the value in letting go and giving away. Which opens up our lives—and our hearts—for the intangible gifts of love, purpose and joy.

May you have a 2016 full of the intangible gifts of life. Let all the rest fall away.

The Harry and David Christmas Miracle

A Harry and David Christmas

A Harry and David Christmas

It’s been a Harry and David Christmas at our house this year. We have pears coming out of our ears.

A week ago, Rob’s bookkeeper gave us a beautiful box of 12 pears from the iconic holiday fruit packager. Then, two days later, one of my sweet clients gifted me a box of Harry and David pears! Rob and I laughed, and I started giving them to neighbors.

A couple of days later, Rob got a package from his insurance agent—a box of Harry and David pears, apples, caramel corn with chocolate pieces, delectable chocolate truffles, and sugar cookies! At least it offered some yummy chocolates.

Yesterday, another business associate of Rob’s gave him another box of pears—from Harry and David! Our pear cup runneth over. I’ve started giving them to friends as well as neighbors. A friend suggested peeling, cutting them up and freezing them for future smoothies. Did that, too. Rob re-gifted the latest box of pears to one of his employees.

My sister and brother-in-law live in Medford, Oregon, so I’m familiar with Harry and David. The company, which was started by a guy named Samuel Rosenberg in 1910, has pear orchards that date to 1885. Rosenberg’s sons, Harry and David, took over management of the company in 1914, and it grew into one of the country’s greatest success stories.

Today, it’s a small miracle they are still in business. In 2004, Harry and David was acquired by two investment firms—Wasserstein & Co. of New York and Highlands Capital Management of Boston—which then saddled it with unbearable debt, forcing layoffs. In 2011, Harry and David filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy, but managed to emerge from it just six months later. The company was sold again in 2014 to 1-800 Flowers, and from all appearances seems to have recovered.

Harry and David has been a huge employer for the Southern Oregon region, so all of this abundance of fruit is a good sign. Not just for Medford and environs, but for the national economy. If a victim of takeover greed can come back from the brink, there’s hope—truly a Christmas miracle.