The weekend got away from me. Poof. Three days just disappeared. Time has a way of doing that lately.
I keep thinking to myself that I need to slow things down, taking time to do things instead of rushing through them to get to the next thing. My impatience is my enemy. Part of slowing down might also mean minimizing the number of things I have and do. This likely won’t be easy for me.
While writing my morning pages the last couple of days, I’ve caught myself daydreaming as I gaze around the office looking for opportunities to cull my belongings. Just the idea of doing so gives me anxiety. Today, it occurred to me that that may be the exact reason I need to start the process of getting rid of things.
There are just so many things.
Recently, I decided that I would try to work my way through all of my pens. It’ll take me a good while to get through them, given how many of them there are. The pens seem like an easy first step into using what I have until they’re gone.
I have this photo printer that prints great photos. I rarely use it but the idea of selling it doesn’t sit well with me, so I keep taking it from place to place with the hope that I’ll run something off with it.
Thinking about it now, I have an attachment to my things. There’s sentimental value in them. I romanticize the object instead of the result of its function. Is it really the pen that matters or what I write with it? Is it the printer that’s of value or the pictures I printed with it?
This is a conflict I have to wrestle with.
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