Unburdening

I made a major change in my life yesterday. Every since I was diagnosed with lupus, my eating habits, my daily pace, my address, and my job have all changed. But my everyday, go-to bag has not. I've gotten other bags to add to my collection, but they are all too-large-to-call-a-purse, hurt-your-back-and-neck-and-shoulders, and carry-everything-you-possibly-can-including-a-small-library, sized. Until now. 

Yesterday, I decided that I'm done carrying heavy burdens everywhere I go. I decided to "upgrade" to something much smaller. My new purse - it really is small enough to be called a purse - has room for my cellphone, driver's license, debit card, keys, and pillfold. That's it. Five things. Only the essentials. Nothing more. It's liberating. And scary. 

What if five things aren't enough? What if I'm out and I don't have something with me that I neeeeeed?!? What if something bad happens because I didn't have everything with me? 

I had gotten used to my burden. It was my safety blanket...a very painful one, but a safety blanket nonetheless. It made me feel secure to have everything with me "just in case." But sometimes, you have to let go of the security blanket. Sometimes, you have to look your "What ifs" in the face and say, "The world will keep moving, my life will keep going, and it's going to be okay."

Changing It Up

Today is Blog Makeover Day! Okay, so maybe that's not really a thing, but I did give my blog a makeover. It was time for a change. So I kept what I love and shed what no longer resonated with me. It's not a dramatic change. More like a tweak. I hope you like it!

Goodbye, grey birds...and hello, crisp, white walls!

Leaving the place that I know

As I type this, I'm surrounded by boxes and boxes and boxes.  This is our last full day in our apartment before friends come to help us move into a house tomorrow.  There are so many reasons we wanted to move:  It's way too tiny and we ran out of room for our books.  We're tired of sharing walls and hearing our neighbors stomp up the stairs in the wee hours of the night.  We're tired of dealing with the management office workers that make horrible decisions and don't care...  We're ready to move on.

But this morning, I find myself a little slow to work on the last bit of packing.  Yes, I'm tired from all the packing I've done up to this point, but what I feel is a little more than just tired.  I'm a little sad.  I'm sad because this tiny space has been my home for the last four years.  Four years.  That may not seem like a long time, but that's the longest my husband and I have stayed in one address since we both left home to go to college.  This place is comfortable.  It's familiar.  I'm going to miss the farm road scenery.  I'm going to miss the camel we say "hi" to everyday on our drive home.  (Yes, there's a camel.  There are also alpacas, horses, donkeys, cows, and other animals we never figured out so we just call them "beasts."  On our drives home, we've been surprised by deer, wild turkeys, and owls.  Our drives home will probably never be so adorable again.)

Over the past month, in the midst of packing mayhem, I've had moments when I briefly think, "Wouldn't it be easier to stay where I'm at?  Am I really done with this place?  Do I really want to move on?"  Yes, it would be easier to stay where I'm at.  But even though I may not feel 100% done with this place, yes, I really want to move on.  If I stay here, I will miss too much: 

     an adorable house
     in an adorable neighborhood full of trees and pretty houses
     with cute shops and restaurants within walking distance
     a front door that's red and makes me think of old houses in DC
     a fireplace
     a backyard
     a front yard with trees
     space for a Christmas tree
     space to hide the Christmas tree when it's not Christmas
     space to dedicate a whole room to our books and have a home library
     space for my pianos (yes, plural)
     space to host a party with more than two friends at a time
     space to play board games and do puzzles
     space...

It's worth leaving the comfortable and familiar to have something that's better.