I love watching buildings go up…though I really do not love the idea of using up every available square inch of the natural places to do so.
They’d built a brand new elementary school behind my daughters’ 40 year old school and then a few weeks ago, began the deconstruction process.
I have pictures of it standing, and also of the interior in the last days before they moved into the new building, when some of the classroom teachers allowed the kids to decorate the walls and floors in sharpie marker. Unfortunately, I can’t find them anywhere on my server. If I can find them, I’ll add them later.
I have trouble with letting go.
I always have.
And the idea of tearing down the old school, where all my children have gone was a little bit sad.
Yes, the other school was old and worn out and too small for our growing community.
Yes, the shiny new school is awesome.
But still…there were 7 years of memories at that old building. Family fun fairs, Evening with Santa, operas and choir concerts. My kids not only went to school there, but I substitute taught there too sometimes. It was extra special to me, even if it was old and a little dingy.
But as of Saturday, this was the only corner left standing.
I was able to take a few pictures when we met at the school to take a bus to the Young Authors’ Conference.
It was interesting to see just this bit left.
You can see a bit of the roof of the new building behind the chunks of foundation. I’m not sure if they will be adding more parking lot…or a new playground. I’m hoping they leave room for grass and trees because they removed the old growth trees and grass for the new building.
There were piles of metal awaiting removal.
As I’ve watched the process of tearing down the building for the past few weeks, I started thinking about my deconstruction process. About how the old structure inside me had undergone deconstruction, too.
The process has been long and laborious. It didn’t go up overnight, and it wasn’t going to come down overnight either. It wasn’t just a haphazard razing.
They started at one end of the building, the one closest to the new school, and ended up at the furthest end.
And they hadn’t rushed to remove all the waste as they created it. They just set it up in nice piles – bricks here, wires in that pile, metal studs and sheet metal there, great chunks of concrete right over there. I imagine – well, I hope, anyway – they will recycle as much as they can.
I am contemplating my own inner deconstruction. I’ve been pulling down brick walls I’d erected around my heart in an effort to prevent feeling (more) pain, but instead, it’s been keeping people I love at a distance.
I had a lot of ego defenses that have not been serving me well and hurting the ones I love, including me. It’s been a long process of learning what not to do while I’m vulnerable…and what I can do instead of the habitual reactions that pushed people I care about away and kept new acquaintances at a comfortable distance.
I know I need to rebuild, and put something in its place, but rather than build another fortress of solitude, I’d like to build a garden sanctuary. A peaceful place where people might like to come and visit a little while. I want it to be calming, soothing, life-affirming and beautiful, a place with warmth and sunshine. I want to be in, as well as a place that draws healthy people in too.
I hope I can.
I think I can.
I know I can.
Here’s to hope and healing…