Thursday, February 9, 2017

The path not taken

I'm getting a lot more comfortable with sorting and purging my things.

I've learned to quickly disassociate the THING from the WAY I FEEL about the thing.  That helps.

Kitchen gadget duplicates? Gone.
Clothes that don't fit me RIGHT NOW? Gone.
Photos of people that I no longer care to remember? Gone.

Until I discovered my kryptonite.  For lack of a better definition, I'll call it "the path not taken".

My first bout with my own personal kryptonite arrived in the form of a drysuit for scuba diving. I worked my tail off to pay for that drysuit, a year or more as a dive instructor even with the instructor's price discount, custom cut to my exact specifications.  Back when I decided I had to have it, I imagined myself diving in Puget Sound, hanging out on the ocean floor with a really huge octopus.

I haven't made it to Puget Sound yet, and I've yet to really bond with that drysuit, despite multiple dive trips with it.  I'm coming to the conclusion that I need to let it go, because it takes up a whole bunch of real estate, and let's be honest, it hasn't seen water in 5 years or more. But I am still haunted by that mental image of me and the octopus, playing on the ocean floor in the murky waters of North America.

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