The Yellow Door Life

After having gone several weeks without furniture in my apartment, aside from a camping chair and a mattress on the floor, I now realize the role that certain things play in our lives. Furniture can be so cumbersome and annoying, especially when it comes to moving, but it is often incredibly necessary, unless you are a big fan of hanging out on the floor. 

As I have added a few small pieces of furniture to the apartment, I realized this: I can get by with very little, but having some basics is definitely a comfort and convenience. 

I moved here largely without furniture, so that I could handle unloading everything myself. I told myself, if you can’t carry it, you can’t bring it. 

Today, I drove to Temple to pick up a small, 3-piece dining set, similar to one I had many years ago in my old condo. 

I figured it looked about the same size and weight, so I could manage. 

The woman I purchased it from was very kind and as I entered her home to get the table and chairs, she told me about how her and her husband had a kitchen fire and insurance had paid to renovate the house. Their stuff had just been brought back yesterday and they were trying to get rid of as much stuff as possible and begin downsizing. 

The table and chairs I was buying used to be her 94-year-old mother-in-law’s, but she was now living in a memory care facility.

She kept asking if I needed any other furniture, or perhaps some coffee mugs.

I politely told her no and that I am actually trying to live very simply myself from here on out.

She nodded in understanding and offered to help me carry the table outside to my car, followed by the chairs. 

I worried that without having figured out how heavy the table was from the get-go, I might be in a bind if I got back to the apartment and couldn’t lift it, but I went for it nonetheless. 

Once I got back, I pulled my car up to the sidewalk and began walking everything to the foot of my staircase. The chairs were easy, but when I went to pull the table out I stopped, prayed, and looked up to see a cardinal land on my neighbor’s fence. I breathed in deeply and lifted the table up and out. I walked it over, with just one break in between, and went to park my car in my assigned spot. 

When I got back to the staircase, I told myself, table first – get the worst of it over.

The staircases in my complex have three steps up to a platform, then split, with steps going up on the left and right to each unit. 

As I started on the first 3, I realized I was going to have to walk the table up a couple steps at a time. 

Maybe it’s because I’ve carried so much heavy stuff this month, or my negative thoughts added to the weight, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’ t figure out how to carry the table with both hands and get it up the awkward staircases. It was heavier than the table I had back in the day. 

I thought up actually getting my car and walking the table back to it. 

I thought about asking a neighbor for help, but I don’t know any of them.

Finally, I said, Emily, you need to get it together and get this dang table up the stairs, so you can eat meals like a normal person again. 

So I lifted, shimmied, walked, almost fell, then almost lost my grip on the table, then corrected, and repeated the process for what felt like an hour (when in reality it took less than 10 minutes), but finally got the table securely on my front porch. 

I grabbed the chairs and brought them up. 

I had a few more negotiations to make to get the table inside and finally it was all sitting in my designated dining area.

I sat down to enjoy my victory and opened Instagram on my phone to a post from my favorite poet, Morgan Harper Nichols. 

We are all connected. I’ve said it before, and I will keep saying it. Our art, the beauty we create, is meant to be shared with the world. Her art and poetry and unique take on life has saved me countless times, and in this moment of pure triumph, but also exhaustion, her words saved me again. 

Here’s to making room for a new routine that supports you.

Here’s to making room for a way of being that has less pressure. 

I kept reading and started to cry uncontrollably. 

Not from emotion alone, but from pure release. 

I’ve had moments like this before where my body finally feels safe enough to let something go and it leaves as tears, rushing out like a river. 

I’ve heard about this happening during workouts when you finally hit a point where you push your body so hard and it does something you never thought it could.

I never thought I’d get that table up those stairs.

I never thought I would live alone again.

I never thought I would be given the opportunity to have my dream teaching job (more on this soon).

I never thought I would land in Waco, TX. 

The tears that came today were proof that our bodies are built to handle more than we realize. 

I prayed every second while I was on that staircase.

I thought about all the muscles I must be working out at the gym and didn’t even realize it. 

It may seem trivial to some people, you moved a table up a staircase, big deal…

To me though, this table is now a piece of this routine I am creating here in Texas. 

Living simply.

Eating cleanly.

Establishing healthy habits and boundaries.

Finding breathing room.

And who knows, maybe I’m also creating space for another person to join me at this table and in this new room in my life.

❤