Memories in a Shoebox

I am far from the floor I collapsed on in Connecticut, reliving memories, mulling over evil, discontent, pain, and healing. A place I spent many candle – lit hours writing and sunrise filled mornings looking out over the water processing life’s journeys.

The memories that fall out of boxes now, are those of times before, making them feel so far away. They are other lives, past lives.  Photos are spread across my memory waiting for a decision on which ones I will choose to keep, and which ones I will let go of. Which memories belong on the wall of my new life and which ones will go back into the shoe  - boxes they emerged from?

I’d like to feel safe, to build a home, to watch as the next chapter of my life unfolds. It all begins with adjusting to these old memories, and leaving room for the new ones, which are yet to arrive, and where to place them all for now.

I wonder, in my new life, what I will experience in the confines of my new walls. Will I whisper words of love? Will I grieve a loss I haven’t yet fathomed? Will I conquer self-doubt? Will I struggle? Will I embrace self-love? Will I accomplish goals I haven’t yet set my mind to? Will I mourn my transient self? Will I long for my gone now beach - side property, or house with a view? Will I feel at home?

 I am accepting of clearing my mind, for new moments, new memories, and a brand new chapter of life to unfold.

I just do not relish the process of it all!