“For all that has been, thanks. For all that will be, yes.” Dag Hammarskjold

This quote has been written on my wall at my condo since I moved in over 5 years ago.  It’s a stencil.  Oh and Dag Hammarskjold was the former Secretary General to the United Nations.  Now, why would I have that quote on my wall to look at every day?  Well…

When I was younger I had a hard time being grateful.  I always looked at the glass “half empty,” instead of half full.  My twenties has taught me to reverse that kind of thinking, and I’m so glad that I am now able to see the world through the “half full” side of the glass.  I don’t need to go into too much detail but let’s just say that my twenties have been filled with both amazing gifts and difficult obstacles.  At 21 I had the most adventurous experience traveling through Europe.  Then, at 22 I was hired to teach English and Humanities at Reseda Science Magnet.  The following year I bought my condo, only to realize that I bought it at the worst time.  The market literally began to collapse in the months after I purchased my new abode. I quickly saw the thousands of dollars I had put down for the downpayment disappear as the value of my home sharply declined.  A year later I was hit intentionally by a truck which then sped off.  Based on my description of the incident to the police, they said it was most likely a gang initiation and I was lucky to be alive.  That same week I fell down a flight of stairs head first with a cup of hot tea in my hands.  Amazingly, I only had one slightly fractured rib and some bumps and bruises.  About 8 months after that, the two ton pine tree near my condo fell through the roof, rendering my house roofless for 3 months. Amidst all that I was told that I would be losing my job because LAUSD was letting 10,000 teachers go that year.  Needless to say, at this point in my life, all I could see was the glass “half empty.”  At the same time, I was very depressed about my dating life and wondered if I’d ever meet anyone let alone get married or have a family. 

Twenty-five was a turning point in the mess that had become my life.  I got a job with Chaminade Middle School, met my husband, and finally felt like things were beginning to go my way. Actually, it was before I met my husband that things started to go right.  I decided that I was going to be happy no matter what.  Three days before I met my husband on Match.com, I said out loud, in front of my dad, that I was confident that I would meet someone.  That may sound lame, but prior to that declaration, I only spoke negatively about my prospects for finding love.  I had decided to speak positively, and amazingly, three days later when I signed up for Match.com and sent Ben a message, he wrote me back almost instantaneously.  We met one week later, and became inseparable. 

So why write about this now?  Well, I just sold my condo which I purchased in 2007. I needn’t tell you how much $$ I lost on this “investment,” but let’s just say I can’t think about it too long without it making me feel queasy.  We moved out completely as of yesterday and spent out first night in our new place last night.  This morning I went back to my condo to clean it for the new owners who will be moving in next week.  Everything was gone.  Not a stick of furniture or a photograph to tell a stranger who had lived there for the past five years.  I scrubbed the kitchen floor, vaccuumed the whole house, cleaned the shower and wiped down everything.  The last thing I had to do was sweep the patio.  When I was done and came back inside, there it was staring at me.  “For all that has been, thanks.  For all that will be, yes.”  I closed the door, looked out at the beautiful view of the lake below for the last time, and breathed “thank you” to God.  Because despite the thousands of dollars lost a lot of amazing things have happened the last five years and I have grown tremendously as a person.  I couldn’t help becoming a little emotional standing there.  Five years ago, I wanted to believe in that quote, so I put it on my wall.  As I left my condo for the last time, I not only believed it, I felt it. 

The view from my (now someone else’s) condo. 


Thank you, God for that phase of my life.  And for all that will be…YES.