The gift of un-busy

"Slow down.

Clear your calendar.

Take time to breathe deeply
and enjoy the season."

A few years ago I worked hard to get to a place of un-busy.  Sure enough, I very much enjoyed the feeling of simplicity.  I asked myself about that the other day - how I did it and why I let it slip away.

Oh, yah, it was because we were out there living on the road…

• Away from our world and our peeps
• Away from our roots.
• Away from friends and family
• Away from any kind of social life
• Away from time commitments

It was nice to not be so busy.  

To not always be scurrying or feeling behind

But it wasn’t perfect.

I missed my peeps, those little grands, our kids, and dear friends.

I missed having at least a bit of a social life.

So here we are a couple years later and we’ve again put down roots. Even though we knew hardly anyone when we moved here, we found ourselves surrounded by wonderful people who soon became friends.  Options and opportunities abound in this place so I just had to try everything.  

Until I couldn’t.

Until I remembered that I can’t do it all.

That I might have to re-teach myself how to pick and choose only the best.  I had to admit that my old tendency to over-commit had returned with a vengeance.  I needed to step back and make some changes.

For three months now I have been intentionally finding my way back toward un-busy.  Not there yet, but I am beginning to breathe easier.

This would be the perfect spot for my magical list of three easy steps to find un-busy.  Sorry; I haven’t found time to come up with a neat list all tied up with a bow.  I’m still in the trenches on this - reminding myself to notice how I’m doing and to ask the hard questions about my choices.  I’m still finding my way back to sanity.  I choose to give myself the gift of un-busy again.  To live at a healthy pace.

Maybe next month I can come up with a handy-dandy list.  

Or maybe not.

How much is enough?

Is it just me? 

Or does anybody else ever feel like you're not doing enough?

Not doing THIS enough and not doing THAT enough...?

Other people have expectations of us.

Social media sets up unrealistic standards.

It can be easy to feel like I should be doing more.

I should do this or that more often.

More frequently.

More regularly. 

More consistently.

Or I should care more.

I should be more available.

I should be better at this...

(And yes, that's a whole lot of should's but that's a subject for another time.)

What a set-up for discouragement!

What a load of guilt can get dumped on us!

...

But you know what?

We simply cannot do it all!

Certainly not all of the things that everybody wants us to do - and not even everything that we might think we ought to do.

...

One of the best things I've ever done is to stop and ask:

How much is enough?

How much should I be doing really?

What is realistic?

What is healthy?

Reasonable?

What lines up with who I am?

With the kind of person I want to be, but also with my priorities and responsibilities...

...

It's tough to be objective about whether we are doing enough - especially when other people's expectations are far different from ours.  Sometimes we have to compromise and sometimes we must experiment to see what will actually work.

One of my ongoing examples is writing.

I can easily feel like I'm not writing enough.

Oh, dear; am I writing enough?

Perhaps the more important question is:

How much is enough?

How often is appropriate?

How MUCH should I do each time?

(How many words, how many projects, how many hours...?)

How in the world

will I know if I'm doing enough

if I don't have a clue

how much I should be doing?!?

I’m happy to report that this process is helping - with my writing, with relationships, with chores, with outside commitments...

Now when I begin to feel like I'm not doing enough I can pause and think about my answers to that key question.  I can much more objectively see that "Yes, I am doing enough at this moment" or maybe admit "Oops; it is true that I need to do that one more time this week."

It was no fun to be stuck in subjectivity and always feeling like I wasn't doing enough. 

Or wasn't doing something OFTEN enough.

Or LONG enough.

Or whatever...

It feels so much more reasonable and healthy to be able to take a look at my goals and at the reality and to see whether adjustments need to be made to my schedule.  I suppose it is a type of self-accountability.

This is a tool to become a better person.

A dependable worker

A faithful friend

More consistent

More reasonable

More balanced

And definitely a healthier person

More satisfied and contented

It feels good to be consistently doing the things that are important.

I like myself a whole lot better... 

They are telling our story

I've just been introduced to Dave and Sheryl Balthrop and have learned some of their story about selling their house and combining households with her mom. They blog about their journey at Simple Life Reboot.

They are telling our story. Well, they are telling THEIR story but some of it is just like our story.  Sure; the details are different, but they are articulating many of our thoughts almost verbatim.

Here are just a few lines from Dave and Sheryl that are almost exactly what we've said and thought - illustrated by a couple of our pictures.

"While we recognized that our over-sized house used most of our resources,

we justified the expenditures by telling ourselves

that we needed to maintain a large legacy home

that could serve as a gathering place for our children and future grandchildren.

"But we began to realize that they weren’t really gonna’ come back all that often. 

We were gonna’ need to go see them. 

Their lives were busy."

"A big part of what drives us is our kids.

What they’re into

What they’re doing and

Our ability to stay in contact with them

"But the house was sorta’ tying us down.

"The house that we thought was so important  

to keep for them to come home to...

This house might be the obstacle hindering us from going to see the kids."

…

Dave summarizes: 

"Early on, we realized it was the right thing to do.

As we got further into the process,

we knew that it was ABSOLUTELY the right thing."

...

Sheryl remembers:

"It was emotional.

What will people think?"

...

Regarding downsizing:

"We ... consider it an advance gift to our children

in that they would never have to deal with boxes and boxes

of unneeded items which we edited from our lives."

Regarding the gatherings, Sheryl wondered if the kids would come to her mom’s house for Christmas and other gatherings.

"Would they still come?"

"Would they feel comfortable?"

And then she answers the question:

"Yes, they still come. 

It gets a little silly, with lots of blow-up beds,

but I think it’s more of an adventure.

"They’re coming to spend time with us and with each other, 

not to be in a particular space."

Yes, we have said and thought almost these exact things about the place and the people.

...

And here are a few other wise words from Dave:

"I believe we move towards that which we contemplate."  

Now there's something to contemplate.

Read more of their story HERE.

High Hopes

It is easy for me to have high hopes for myself. 

Noble, lofty expectations. 

And then to not fulfill them.

"Yes, I think I will do this."

"Hey, I’m going to write about that."

"Maybe I could become more this or that or the other thing."

But then I don’t always follow through.

I might start but never quite finish.

High hopes often fizzle.

Great expectations and good intentions don’t always end up as awesome accomplishments.

…

I want to be a prolific writer, but sometimes the words I crank out are anything but creative so they never get published.

I want to live a life of gratitude, but I hear myself griping about the mosquitos and whining about the heat.

I want to be a voice of grace, but I catch myself saying things that aren't so gracious.

I want to cultivate a calm and quiet spirit, but sometimes I still tend to get reactionary.

I want to celebrate the opportunity to live in a different culture, but some days I stay inside my walls where I don’t have to work so hard to remember how to communicate  and conjugate in a foreign language.

I want to post glowing reports about this place, but some days everything just seems ordinary - or maybe even downright difficult.

I want to make the most of every single opportunity that comes with living on a tropical island, but lots of times I run out of energy before the chores are done.

...

When I fail to fulfill my own high hopes, I can be tempted to feel sad about it.

But I don’t need to feel discouraged or defeated. 

Because, you see, I am not required to wring every ounce of specialness from every minute.

It is enough… No, it is more than enough that I am aware of my blessings.
That I am grateful in little ways. 

Quiet ways.

That I am indeed enjoying the minutes here and cherishing lots of the many opportunities.

It is wonderful to lift my gaze an inch or two from my computer screen and breathe in the beauty of the palm trees surrounding our little second-story hide-away.

How awesome to have become accustomed to the sound of the crashing waves. At times we pause to listen and comment about the ocean being calm today. Or being louder and wilder than usual.

And speaking of loud, it is fun to stop and notice, “Hey, I know that song. I recognize it from somewhere. … Oh, yah, it's from last night and every night last week.”

It is even kinda’ fun when we happen to be in town in the evening and can’t hear each other in conversation because the music is so loud.

So many sounds.

It might be silly, but I think it’s cool that I recognize the sounds of the various four-wheelers coming down our street. Here comes Ralph, our landlord. That sounds like Joe, our Quebec-y neighbor who speaks English. Joe is our hero. Our helper when we desperately need to communicate with our French landlords.

I feel joy when I am in town and see a face light up in recognition. That kinda’ melts my heart. When we step into “Supermercado Numero Uno” and beautiful Luci flashes her million-dollar smile at me from behind the cash register. Or when Michel calls out to me along the beach before I’ve noticed him. It is extra cool when “my student” calls me “mi amor” - as if I’m special. Makes me feel like I belong. 

Another moment of belonging comes when the lady on the vegetable truck remembers that we love green beans and has set some aside for me - or that I want pepinos pequenos. Yes, I like my cucumbers to be smallish and thin rather than big and fat and seedy.  And it makes me chuckle when Gri-Gri smiles and greets me (actually SMILES) after so many days of me greeting her first and taking time to ask how she’s doing. It’s confusing but endearing when Antonio, the night watchman at the end of our street, launches into some story of which I grasp only a snippet.

It is fun and funny to hear the lilting French language wafting from the next-door windows on all sides. I love to hear it but shake my head because I understand almost none of it. Only occasionally do we hear American English from the house behind us or maybe in the store.

It gets really exciting when I finally find sponges at the grocery store after looking for them for weeks. AND bananas!!! I guess we’ve adjusted to the disappointment that bananas are so rarely available here in town so when we find some, it is cause for great joy. And these are those yummy Dominican bananas - so much better than the ones we get in the U.S.

It feels familiar now to stop at the empanada stand and pick up some chicken and vegetable empanadas for supper. And maybe some ham and cheese ones for tomorrow’s breakfast.

When I’m searching for needed supplies, it's fun to feel like I know my way around the store - and maybe around the language as well.

…

But here’s the thing.

I don’t have to fulfill all of my dreams.

I don’t necessarily need to live up to my greatest expectations.

I am a dreamer and I love that about myself.

I have often said that I would be happy if I accomplish even a small percentage of my hopes and dreams. That’s a luxury you can afford when you have so many of them.

So today I refuse to feel badly about the things I didn’t get done.

The blog posts I haven’t written yet.

The goals I have not fulfilled.

The great idea that didn’t happen because I ran out of energy.

There are so, so many choices. 

So many opportunities to celebrate this amazing place.

This cool little town.

These awesome people.

I can’t do it all.

I can’t have it all.

Nor do I want to. 

This place is a veritable buffet of cultural experiences.
No need to be a glutton.

I can taste this one and try that one.

I can savor each bite. Each experience.

I can even come back for seconds on the ones that I really enjoy.

I can work hard to reach some of my dreams.

I can choose to set others aside - for now or forever.

I can try one more time to make contact with that person I’ve been trying to find. I can try as many times as I want. But then I don’t have to feel badly if I just can’t make it happen.

I can walk to the beach some mornings, but don’t need to do it every day.

I will push myself to fulfill some of my dreams. 

To reach some of my goals. 

And I will choose to relax other times.

How about you?

Do you have too many dreams to get them all done?

That is totally NOT a bad thing!

The Mexican fisherman

A few days ago I wrote about the poverty and difficult circumstances that many Dominicans face.

Today I happened to remember this story.*
One of my favorite stories ever. 

Perspective
Attitude
Priorities
Contentment
...

A boat docked in a tiny Mexican village.  An American tourist complimented the Mexican fisherman on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took him to catch them.

"Not very long," answered the Mexican.

"But then, why didn't you stay out longer and catch more?" asked the American.

The Mexican explained that his small catch was sufficient to meet his needs and those of his family.

The American asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"

"I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, and take a siesta with my wife.  In the evenings, I go into the village to see my friends, have a few drinks, play the guitar, and sing a few songs . . .I have a full life."

The American interrupted, "I have an MBA from Harvard and I can help you! You should start by fishing longer every day. You can then sell the extra fish you catch. With the extra revenue, you can buy a bigger boat.

With the extra money the larger boat will bring, you can buy a second one and a third one and so on until you have an entire fleet of trawlers.   Instead of selling your fish to a middle man, you can negotiate directly with the processing plants and maybe even open your own plant. You can then leave this little village and move to Mexico City, Los Angeles, or even New York City!  From there you can direct your huge enterprise."

"How long would that take?" asked the Mexican.

"Twenty, perhaps twenty-five years," replied the American.

"And after that?"

"Afterwards? That's when it gets really interesting," answered the American, laughing.

"When your business gets really big, you can start selling stocks and make millions!"

"Millions? Really?"  And after that?"

"After that you'll be able to retire, live in a tiny village near the coast, sleep late, play with your children, catch a few fish, take a siesta with your wife and spend your evenings drinking and enjoying your friends."

...

* I have no idea where this story originated. It guess it is public domain by now - and lots of people have written about it all across the internet.

Such silliness

Warning: this story is silly.

I mean absurdly, ridiculously silly and trivial.

But hey, I try to celebrate the little victories in life. Even the silly ones.

And maybe even learn from them.

…

You know how sometimes we sit around the table talking and laughing - maybe for hours? And you know how easy it is to keep munching and nibbling away at the things that are nearby? Obviously you are no longer hungry, but once the bloat of fullness fades a teeny bit and the tryptophan has lulled all sense of reason into oblivion, the contents of those giant platters and serving bowls somehow start to look appealing again.

Well, there I sat beginning to notice that succulent piece of turkey on the edge of that platter - or to think about how I might be able to find room for another small portion of that sweet potato concoction. I admit I was ready to reach for first one and then another…. Except for one minor detail. 

For some silly reason, there was water on my plate. Maybe I had poured out the last couple ounces of water from my glass to make room for something sparkly. I think it was something like that. I suppose it made sense at the time because surely I was done eating and finished with my plate.

At any rate, there was this little pool of water there in the middle of my plate - as I sat there sipping my sparkling beverage and enjoying the conversation and laughter floating around the room.

After awhile, sure enough, I began to notice that platter of turkey sitting nearby - AND another of ham. Oh, my; they were both so yummy and I had been careful not to eat very much. But now… Now after sitting here for a couple hours… Now maybe I could find room for just a little snipper…

Oh, wait; there’s a little pool of water on my plate. Okay; I won’t bother. I don’t need more food anyway. 

More talking and listening and laughing and learning what’s happening in everybody’s life. Good times.

Oh, but look! There is that amazing stuffing with all of the secret ingredients stuffed inside. I sure would be nice to get another tiny serving of that. Let’s see; maybe I will. Oh, wait; nope, there’s still that little pool of water on my plate. Wouldn’t want it to make my stolen serving of stuffing soggy, now would I?

Of course, by now I began to argue with myself. I could get up and take that offending plate to the kitchen and get rid of the little pool of water. But no, that would take effort. And besides this gives me a good excuse to not eat more. Hmmm… Interesting.

Back to the friendly banter in the room. Fun times.

But it happened again. And again. There was that pecan-encrusted sweet potato dish. Oh, yum. Ooh, and the scalloped corn soufflé or whatever it is called. Maybe it’s time for just a little more of one of those. Gotta’ eat my vegetables; right? Oops; nope. There’s that little pool of water. How silly! 

Of course, by then, I had become aware what was happening - smart girl that I am. It had dawned on me that I had before me a perfect deterrent - albeit a silly one. And that my laziness was at least helping me to avoid some serious over-eating. I had to chuckle while silently congratulating myself. Such silliness. But hey, maybe this is what they call mindful eating. This noticing and monitoring my own private internal battle - and even recognizing the humor in it. Who knows? 

…

The moral of the story?

In my battle against gluttony, one of the few things that seems to work for me (WHEN I choose to employ it!) is to wait. Instead of popping something into my mouth, simply wait. Wait a little longer before eating that morsel that is calling my name. Wait. Maybe 15 minutes. Maybe I can only make it 5 minutes. Or maybe I can sail through the 15 minutes and decide to wait even longer. Maybe I can wait until I finish this project or cross one more item off my to-do list. 

Maybe I can grab onto some silly reason to wait. Like maybe there is a little pool of water on my plate. And maybe I’m too lazy to get out of my chair and do something about it. So maybe I will let that become my reason to wait. Whatever works. Whatever reason I can find to postpone eating something that I don’t need. 

Creative procrastination. That’s what I like to call it. 

Maybe that’s the moral of the story.

Maybe I can continue to learn from it.

Maybe I can be alert to whatever will help me next week when the Christmas foods appear.

…

How about you? 

Do you employ any silly tactics to avoid gluttony during this season of abundance?

More power to you.

ADD syndrome

I guess I have ADD syndrome.

I'm not talking about A.D.D. or A.D.H.D.
I simply mean ADD. I always want to ADD things to my life.

ADD more sea shells to my collection because they're so lovely.

ADD more kitchen utensils to make life more convenient.

ADD more clothes to my wardrobe because I get tired of the same old ones.

ADD more colorful beads to my brand-new Mardi Gras collection because they are so fun.

ADD more supplies in case we need them.

ADD more notepads that I can write in.

ADD more books on my to-read pile.

ADD more e-mail newsletters to my subscription list.

ADD more events to my calendar because they sound like fun.

ADD more commitments to my schedule because I've always been interested in this.

ADD more jobs to my to-do list.

~   ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~ 

Slowly but surely I'm learning that I have to remove some of the old things in order to make room for the new. Living in a small space reminds me of that necessity.

But this list includes both physical things and also time commitments - which still trip me up.

I remember the day when I told hubby about something that I was going to add to my calendar. Some time commitment that seemed really important to me. He asked me what I was going to remove from my already busy schedule. I said I wasn't planning to remove anything. I thought I could fit it in.

All these years later I still tend to make that faulty assumption at times. I still find myself thinking that surely I can rearrange my day and my week to ADD this one extra thing. Ack!!!

Here's the deal: Something will get removed or it will get neglected or it will be done poorly. If I don't consciously choose something to set aside, it will still happen. Unfortunately, the thing that gets neglected or ignored might be something important.

I thought I had learned that lesson years ago. So why am I still trying to ADD things to my life without figuring out what to remove first?

I guess the syndrome maybe stays in your system and you just need to learn how to control it.


 
 

Too much stuff - for a small space

"Oh, dear; I brought too much stuff."

Now there is nothing new about that statement; pretty much every time I go somewhere I do take too much stuff.

However...

There is nothing quite like living in a small space to make it obvious that you have too much stuff. Most of my life there has been lots of "bonus" space to stash extra stuff. Probably most Americans have that privilege; we can haul Christmas decor to the attic, stash seasonal clothing in a guest room closet, maybe store picnic and camping supplies in the basement or the garage and cram the excess food into the pantry.

In my former life, closets were relatively big and drawers were numerous. I even had a whole room designated for storage!!!

But it's different in an RV. Space is limited - with barely enough room for the essentials, let alone anything extra. There are few drawers and the closets are teeny tiny. There is no such thing as a coat closet in the entry or an unused closet in a guest room - because there is no guest room!

We do have a pantry in our rig (at least we call it that) but it's considerably smaller than the walk-in one we had under the stairs at the big house. There is no desk and there is no office - so our table doubles as our desk and my briefcase is our portable office.

...

Because there is such limited space, it becomes super-important to keep our possessions pared down to a bare minimum. Whenever we consider bringing something with us - or buying something new, we have to find a place for it. We might even measure to make sure it fits and we know that certainly it will displace something else that was already assigned to that spot. Therefore whenever we consider anything bigger than a loaf of bread, we have to weigh all the pros and cons (and ounces and pounds!) to decide if it is worth the space it will require. But somehow it's the little things (the ones smaller than a bread box) that sneak into the bags and boxes to be loaded into the rig - without having gone through that rigorous auditioning process.

Amazingly we did pretty well last year - for being our first time. Maybe beginner's luck. Maybe the hand of providence. Unfortunately I'm afraid I didn't do as well this year. I ask myself how this happened and why I brought too much stuff. Here's what I think contributed to the problem. First of all, we ran out of time because we were moving out of the cabin and getting all of our stuff from the extra sheds into our storage unit - and then we lost a week to sickness. Not taking the time to make deliberate decisions leads to sloppy packing. In the early days of the fall when I had the luxury of time, I had started the loading process and making sure the rig was stocked - with dishes and pans and utensils and all of that good stuff. But then as we were pushing to empty out the basement and the sheds, then more stuff got loaded into the righ - including "another one" of this - without us realizing that it wasn't needed - or remembering that we already had one.

Oh, well, an extra towel can't hurt, right? You can't have too many wooden spoons, right? Wrong. Only a certain number of bath towels fit on that small shelf in the closet - like two or three. Only a couple wooden spoons fit in the silverware drawer alongside those other necessary utensils.

Now don't get me wrong. This rolling home of our is amazing with all of its little nooks and crannies hidden away in every conceivable spot. The lay-out is awesome and I have to say that the designers of these rigs are to be commended. The medicine cabinet is the best one I've ever seen and yes, we take full advantage of every inch. That shelf behind the couch is a life-saver as is that one above the kitchen cabinets. And the vertical shelving by the fridge... Well, I wouldn't want to do without that. And the silverware drawer that wraps around the kitchen sink... Well, that funky drawer just makes me giggle.

So this rig is well-designed and perfectly suited for our needs, but not for many extras. Actually on this trip, there is even less storage space because I gave hubby the rights to pretty much the entire cargo hold - for his piano - because this is an important season in his musical life - so that means I don't have places to put bins of extra stuff into storage. *gulp* Consequently I need to run a tight ship which probably means that I should find a thrift store where I can donate some of this extra stuff.

But, in the meantime, I still have a laundry basket full of clothes to put away, but no place to put them. Yet.

...

As I already mentioned, this is not a new dilemma for me. Instead it is an old familiar pattern that tends to reveal itself in new exotic places. In other words it shows up pretty much wherever I live. I am so very glad that I have finally been learning to live with less.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

"A place for everything

and everything in its place."
~  ~  ~  ~  ~

I remember that saying from when I was a kid and am more recently learning how important that is to my sanity and peace of mind - ESPECIALLY when living in a tiny place like this. Neatness and simplicity have such a calming and healing effect on me; therefore it is worth the cost of paring down my stuff still more.

...

Oh, and I just discovered that there will be a garage sale right here on the campground in a couple weeks - so maybe I can make some money on my "extra" stuff!!!

My word for 2015: NOW

For a couple years now I've been choosing a word for the year - something I like lots better than New Year's resolutions. This year my word was "less" which coincided nicely with the serious downsizing we've been doing for four years. We have just sold our farm and packed our most cherished possessions into a storage unit. In fact, today and tomorrow we are finishing up that process and moving into our RV where we will live for the next year or so.

As we have pushed ourselves through this process, there were times I found myself unable to deal with a certain box or bin full of stuff - so I would move on to a different one, one that I COULD deal with. Consequently, there are still way too many piles of boxes stored away. I am not displeased with myself for deferring those decisions. It was a coping skill for that time and it served me well. That downsizing process has been intense and I'm thankful that I've been able to cut myself a little slack.

But now... Now we have turned the corner. We have locked the door on that storage unit and walked away for a few months.

I have begun to think that my word for the new year is "now" - that it's time to shift my practice toward dealing with things in the moment rather than to set them aside for another time.

"Now" is also a good time to let myself do some of the things I have not taken time for during this intense process. For example, I have always been an avid reader - until these last few years when I have not taken time to read much. Now I will allow myself to read again.

Now is a time to relax a bit - and maybe to even try some new things.

Now is a time to celebrate. Now is time to be present in the moment rather than worry about the future. As I've walked alongside a friend living with late stage cancer, I'm impressed with her focus on living in the present moment. In the now. I want to live like that. I want to be present in the moment. To be alert and mindful. To celebrate what I have rather than worry about what I might lose.

Now is what we have. This is the time to do the things I want to get done.

Even before choosing "now" as my word, I've noticed how living this way has helped me make the shift toward downsizing. Two things that had always contributed to my pack-rat tendencies have been the past and the future. I clung to mementos from the past because they were my heritage. Fortunately I'm learning that I don't need to keep every single piece of that history. As for the future, I used to tend to hoard things that I might need in the future even if I haven't used it yet. I am gradually learning that if I do ever need one of these, I can probably go and buy one. In other words, I realize that living in the now, in the present moment, has already helped me to downsize my stuff - even though I still have much to learn about that habit.

But perhaps the biggest reason for choosing "now" for my word for the year is because I am so tired of incompletions. I have not been a good finisher. But guess what! Unfinished projects cause stress. Big time. Loose ends make me feel frazzled so I want to learn to tie them up. To put things away. To let them go. To be able to walk away and be done.

Hubby always says there is no time like the present. I am learning how important it is to "get 'er done" so that things no longer hang over my head. I want to shift my practice to one of doing it now.

...

Okay; I've talked myself into it. "Now" is my word for the coming year. I plan to practice the art of doing it now. And yes, I know that it will take practice.

And here's what I hope. Once we return to Michigan in April and unlock that storage unit, I really hope that I will be so in love with the habit of doing it now that I will be ready to let go of more and more stuff that I previously stored away.

But now...

Now

I have this moment.

Today.