purging and packing

i've ditched sentimentality. it doesn't serve me to soak my cardboard boxes in tears. instead, each item i cover in bubble wrap and tuck tetris-like into its appointed place becomes a present that i will open on the other side of the country. the things i take with me have stories that make up the tales of my life--the people who have touched me, the moments i've said goodbye, the losses that have led to great finds.

i'm taking the opportunity to shed some skin and shed some light. getting rid of things that no longer serve me and recognizing the power i have to create the life i want to live, rather than live a life i'm constantly trying to change. it's the door at the end of the hallway--you know, the one that is left ajar so a sliver of light spills forth. it's the one i always ignored, or saved for later, opting instead to pound on the doors that are locked, or trying to squeeze passed the ones that are too small to fit through. not this time. this time i'm walking down the hall with my head held high, knowing i will face little resistance and will be embraced by the warmth of light and love, bathed in a sense of purpose.