Don’t trust the weather forecast.
It was supposed to be in high sixties, even seventies. Skimpy tops, shorts, windbreaker type of weather.
I packed accordingly. To be presented with rain, clouds and a blustering wind.
I survived. A worn out, tired full of doogle-berries and paper thin jacket (last minute addition to my packing) plus aforementioned windbreaker saw me through.
Back home I rummaged for a light jacket. Wishing I’d had one the previous week.
But I hadn’t. And I survived just fine.
So how much of the stuff hanging in my closet do I really need?
How much of it can I donate and still have more than enough?
So how much of my public persona do I really need?
How much can I shed?
How much pretense and posturing can be discarded?
How far can I strip down to the real me to discover –
“I’m just fine.”
Hoto by Manuel Chinchilla on Unsplash