"My favorite thing  is to go where I have never been" ~ Diane Arbus

If you have been a faithful reader of this blog, then you know I haven't posted in a very long time.  It isn't that I didn't want to post, but I couldn't post.  This website and this blog came to me at a point in my life when I was ready to test my writing skills, see where it could take me.  And boy did it take me on a journey I could have never expected.

This was  a place where I could write what I wanted the way I wanted.  I did just that.  I did it to some rave reviews from people I had never met, and I did it to some not so kind comments from people I do know. It was a mixed bag of feedback.  They say that every situation is a learning experience, well the situations that came out of writing this were as varied as the subjects. But I have discovered that this blog no longer serves me. I have learned alot about myself and the world I lived in. I am no longer in that world.

My journey took me from the beautiful city of San Francisco, back to the desert of Arizona.  There are many reasons why we do what we do.  I haven't lived here in Arizona in a very long time. There was much apprehension about moving to a place that I thought I let go of long ago.  But the pull of family was long reaching and I felt it was time.  The support from my friends was overwhelming, family was where I needed to be. It was time to move on from my urban family and reconnect with my real family.  So I did just that. Funny enough, it happened organically and that was a meant to be if I ever saw one.

So as I said, this blog no longer serves me.  I have moved on to some amazing things in my life.  I found my true passion and am excited to start school soon.  I left some wonderful memories behind in San Francisco, and the creation of this blog is one of them.  It was there for me when I needed it. I will always be grateful to all of my readers, near and far. I have made some great connections through meeting some of my followers.  Along the way I learned a few things about myself. I will always be grateful that I had the opportunity to share my thoughts, my perceptions of the world around me. Grateful that you came here and read it. But alas, it is time for me to go.  I am still writing, but just not here, and not these types of subjects.  I realize I left no place for you to find me, but I believe if our paths are meant to cross again, they will.

At the request of several readers,  I am leaving this up as an archival place for people to come. I may not have written for several months but I see the stats and I am still garnering new readers everyday.   An honor in and of itself.  Thank you for this opportunity, my writing wings have been spread,  it's time for me to fly.....high.

Isn't there some saying about finding beauty in the imperfections?  I could have sworn I had heard something to that effect, if not, there should be.  This past Saturday found me at a local pottery painting store.  You know the ones where you go in, pick a piece of pottery you like and paint it.  They glaze it and fire it for you, and in a few days, voila, you have your own creation. 

I have wanted to do this for a long time.  I am not a very creative person, especially when it comes to arts and crafts.  I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to spread my creative wings.  After you pick your piece you get a ten minute tutorial about how to paint and what techniques are available via a color wheel of how each type of form and paint will look,  and so on.  It is laid out very well and explained so that a five year old could get it. The last thing she said to us was, " if you are a perfectionist, you are in trouble".  Was she talking to me?  I think so.

It isn't that I am a perfectionist about everything, but some things I want to be really good at.  I discovered painting pottery is not one of them.  But I thought about how this fun activity of painting pottery is related to life.  I took my time to select the colors I wanted to use, colors that represented how I was feeling at the time, as well as, what would go with my decor.  I picked several stencils, sponges, and brushes.  I carefully laid everything on the table where I was working.  It was a meticulous process for me, just as I treat life.  Trying to control how this was going to go. 

I stared at my bowl and tried to decide what to do first, sort of like trying to decide what path to take next on a journey.  I didn't want to choose the wrong color, path if you will.  And then I began painting my background color.  I couldn't tell how it would look, but I quickly realized the uneven brush strokes are like that of my life, uneven and uncertain.  So in trying to make it even, I did a second coat, again trying to make it uniform and perfect.  I proceeded to paint a darker color around the top edge of the bowl, my hand unsteady the whole time.  I saw this as yet another metaphor for how unsteady I am about things in my own life. 

I looked across the table at my friend painting away.  She was getting mildly, very mildly, annoyed that she had made some mistakes of her own.  I assured her it was the imperfections that made it beautiful.  What a fraud, I was trying to make mine perfect, yet I really believed in the words that had just come out of my mouth seconds before.  And that is when I found the perfect stencil, it said "gratitude".  I had gone over several stencils before and saw many words that spoke to me, but none like this.  I knew this was the word to go in the bottom of my bowl. 

The sweet girl that worked at the shop had me stencil it onto paper and copy it into the bowl, it looked okay.  I then had to paint over it, not so good, and definitely not perfect.   I proceeded to paint another coat on the top edge of my bowl, and then BOOM, I went way out of my self imposed lines.  Talk about a flaw, I couldn't believe it.  I had tried so hard to make it even, perfect in fact.  Now my bowl of gratitude was completely imperfect. So to add insult to injury, I decided to paint the word at the bottom of the bowl darker, not a perfect lettered word anymore.

But I learned a lot that Saturday morning.  Life isn't perfect, we have flaws.  It is the flaws that make us unique.   Just like the color wheel with so much variety, so is life.  My bowl is far from being prize worthy, but to me it is priceless.  I had a wonderful time trying to explore my creative side.  Just like anything in life, we have to try until we get it right.   There are signs along the way to guide us.  I believe that Saturday my sign was right there in the bottom of my imperfectly painted bowl.  It was gratitude.  And I was grateful.  Grateful for a life that is full of surprises. Grateful for the flaws that make me who I am, and grateful for the rudimentary lines in my bowl.  Just like my life they are a learning tool to keep trying and keep learning.  It turned out to be a great time, full of perfections and imperfections.  Great company and lots of laughs, and most of all it was a day filled to the rim with gratitude.

In matters of health, it seems like we are sometimes conditioned to fear the worst.  As women it really isn't our fault, is it?  When you go to the doctor and they say they want to run tests, what other conclusions are we to draw upon?  Why would they want to run tests if everything is alright?  Sometimes it is the reality of knowing that it is precautionary that eases our minds.  I think about some recent tests I had just before leaving the Bay Area.

I recently moved and decided that my previous doctor's wait and see attitude was not enough to satisfy me.  So I decided to have a minor physical with a new doctor in this new city and see if her attitude is going to better appease me.  Based on some of the results from previous tests, wait and see is not the answer I was looking for.  It could have been, had there been more conversation, but alas there was none.  Not to mention that this new doctor ordered tests necessary to someone with my dietary lifestyle, something the previous doctor knew and ignored.

But it is the circumstances surrounding some tests of someone else I know that made me think I needed to write about this.  Women and doctors, women and certain tests, it is a lot to absorb when you are on the receiving end of THE machine.  The machine in question, the mammogram machine. 

I remember once while living in California I was going for my mammogram and a friend had asked what it was like.  I said it wasn't a big deal unless they call you back in to get more film.  Don't you know that is exactly what happened that day, and that is exactly what happened to my friend today too.  It is such a daunting feeling.  You feel at the mercy of the big x-ray machine.  A machine that  feels like the jaws of life clamping down on your tender breast, smashing it as tightly as possible, until you think there is nothing left to smash and then holding your breath as the picture is taken.  The whole thing takes no time at all, but when one of your extremities is sitting on a machine acting like it has a life of its own, well, you and I both know, it feels like an eternity.

But as I said, that isn't the worst part.  It is the waiting, the hoping, expecting the technician to come in and tell you everything is fine and to get dressed.  But that didn't happen today, not for my friend.  She waited, hoping any minute the tech would come in and say, "get dressed, you can go".  Instead they came in and said, we need to get a few more photos.  Now chances are good nothing is wrong, but as women, we fear the worst. 

You can't turn on the TV these days without seeing something related to breast cancer, and I would guess everyone of us knows someone touched by the disease one way or another.  I think it is safe to say that those two words, breast cancer, are now a normal part of our everyday language.  I know this and so does my friend.  So I understand her fear. 

But what is there really to be afraid of?  Let me say, it is easier for me to say this, not being on the receiving end of the test this time around.  But the reality is, there is nothing to fear.  Fear is simply that which we don't know or understand.  Her fear is based on the unknown, not knowing what to expect.  When it comes to women's issues I sometimes think we expect the worst and hope for the best.  I would imagine that is the normal reaction for most of us.  I too would be no less afraid, and I know because I have been there.  Many of us have.

I think the missing piece for my friend and for all women is bravery.  It isn't easy.  Going in and baring it all, having the little sticker stuck on you as if you are an inanimate object.  Then having them pull and tug on you to get you in just the right position before lowering the boom, so to speak.   And then to repeat the process on the other side, all the while thinking of anything except for what you are doing in that moment.  And then waiting, and waiting, and maybe even more waiting before being told you can go.  But for us women, it doesn't end there.  It is the agonizing two weeks waiting for the results. 

Yes bravery definitely comes to mind when I think about the whole mammogram process.  From the moment we disrobe until we get our results.  We endure a lot, we go through a wide range of emotions.  But we do come out the other side a little better for it.  My friends courage is inspiring, the courage of all women is inspiring.  Like some women I put off getting my mammogram.  It is simply something I don't want to face, ever.  I do know it is necessary, one of those things in life that we simply must do.  Perhaps my friend's act of fortitude will give me the courage I need to go and have mine done.  And just like the millions of women that sit and wait, I too will wait, and hope I hear the words....."get dressed, you can go".

I had a vision.  About 8 months ago, I had a vision of what my life would be like if I moved.  Left the Bay Area and moved to the suburbs of Phoenix.  It was a lovely, I had such foresight.  So I took it to the next level and decided to make this daydream become a reality.  There is just one problem. It really doesn't look like the way I envisioned it.  In the reverie of my mind, I was rising every morning and going to yoga, then coming home to do some meditation, then working on the next amazing wellness novel, and having an ideal life.

I am one month into this new chapter and here is the reality.  I don't get up every morning and drive my new car to the yoga studio to do yoga.  And that book I wanted to write, well, I don't even know where to begin.  It is funny the attachments we create when we anticipate the future.  Especially a future filled with so much hope and desire.  I remember when I was embarking on this new chapter, a very dear friend warned me, "Don't attach anything to this move, let go of how it should look, and let it unfold".  Of course I said okay, but maybe I really didn't.

I thought I had let go of the "movie" in my head, the vision I had created long ago.  I have only begun this new adventure, a month in and I am ready to be a regular at yoga, be nearly finished on my book, and have paying advertisers on my blog.  Instead, I am taking four different freeways to get to a job, that while I am eternally grateful to have, does not have me wearing lululemon everyday.  So I had to do a re-write. I had to edit the vision to suit the now.

The actuality is that I have only been here for one month and in the job for three weeks.  I have barely learned my way around to be able find the yoga studio much less have time to go four days a week.  I haven't been able to start a book, simply because I can barely get this blog written in a timely manner.  No, the fact of the matter is, I am holding myself to an unrealistic expectation.  The home I am moving into isn't even ready.  I am still residing with my parents and living, basically, out of a suitcase. I am somewhere in between,  I am basically living in the middle.

I also have to look at this last month in retrospect.  Things have been made so easy for me.  Perhaps this is the transition period I needed to decompress from a city life.  What if this period is about re-introducing myself to a different lifestyle, one that I haven't enjoyed in a very long time.  Maybe this is my purgatory, I am right where I am supposed to be.  Life moves a lot slower here and some days I am still going at warp speed.  So maybe this is exactly what is necessary to challenge my city sensibilities.  A necessary evolution.  I have heard said many times, you have to crawl before you can walk.

Thus, I am in transition.  Everyday isn't easy.  There are days when I crave the noise of the city and the feeling of being at peace amongst the chaos.  Those cravings are becoming less and less as I move towards a less chaotic life.  So how can I expect to see the vision of my life come to fruition when that chapter has yet to begin.  I can't project how this new chapter will unfold, it hasn't been cast yet.  I am no longer playing a movie in my head.  I no longer am "seeing" how my life will be. Right now it is more about finding the peace amongst this chaos,  accepting living out of a suitcase or two. Stopping trying so hard and looking for the magic.  It is about finding a balance while living somewhere in the middle. 

"I love you".  Never have there been more powerful words uttered.  We have all said it, and we all want to hear it.  But when is it too much?  I had thought about this very thing several months ago.  I was going to write about it.  Do we say it too often, is it over used, is the meaning still the same?  Yes, I wanted to expand the thought a bit more, and then I decided not to write it.  I guess I didn't feel that such a powerful word was really worth a whole post. What can you really say about the word love?  How do you define it down to terms and speak to the positive and negative sides of the word?

But as it would happen, this very subject has been the topic of conversation lately.  I was recently speaking with a friend and she was telling me about a friend of hers that says "I love you" everytime they hang up the phone.  I understand that, I say it to my friends too.  The difference here, my friend says it back but doesn't know that she really means it.  She says it isn't that she doesn't care deeply for her friend, she just doesn't know if the word "love" is the appropriate word to use when speaking to this friend.  She is very old school, back when love was a word used to share a deep emotion you felt for someone. It was not a word to be taken lightly.

Then I think about a recent conversation with another person.  He said the word is used too much.  He even went as far as to say that I say it too much.   Everytime I hang up the phone with my family, no matter how many times I may have already spoken to them.  He proceeded to tell me that he would almost prefer to hear when I am not feeling the love for him, more so than when I do feel it. An interesting notion that did not sit well with me.

I recall Leo Buscaglia once writing that when we feel love, we need to share it, tell people when we feel it.  I agree. I think part of that reason for me, we don't know when it will be the last time we tell that person.  It is kind of like that with a past lover, you don't know when the last time you are together is actually the last time. So is it so wrong?

I have wondered a lot about the word "love" and how it is used.  We are a society that loves everything.  We love our new outfit, we love the new lipstick we just purchased, we love a song, a movie, the list goes on.  So what if my friend is right. We are saying it too much.  Maybe we are devaluating the weight of the word. Thirty years ago was the word more coveted than it is now?  Do we take liberties with the English language, or are we merely more apathetic to love?

I say "I love you" often, probably more than I should.  I know that when I answered my friend's phone the other day, her friend that she cares deeply for told me she loved me as she was hanging up the phone.  I said it back.  After all, what do you say to that?  I didn't want to hurt her feelings.  Maybe it has just become something that you say, no deep meaning, no harm, no foul. Just a word.

There are people in my life that I love very much, there are others in my life that I care deeply about.  Maybe when I tell those that I care for that I love them, it is my way of validating my friendship to them.  I say it as a way to let them know they mean a lot to me.  Many times I have hugged girlfriends and told them I loved them.  I meant it, I do love my friends.  Maybe it just sounds better to say "I love you", than to hug a friend and say, "You mean so much to me", even when they really do "mean so much to you".

No matter the reason, it seems to me that those three little words do in fact have a great deal of meaning.  Perhaps we shouldn't be so quick to say it if we don't mean it.  But we all know how we feel when we here it, it lights us up.  And depending on the context, it can mean everything.  I like to think no matter how it is meant, it touches the recipeint.  So here is to you, dear reader, you mean so much to me.  Just doesn't sound the same, does it?

So the song goes, so the title says.  Never was there a more powerful statement to me than that is right now.  Part of this new Arizona life is about making new friends, like minded friends.  Friends can come from so many different sources, sometimes it's about what is right in front of your face.  Right in front of my face was a computer screen and a woman's online community.

I had the pleasure of being part of an online community of women, women that supported each other in their daily lives, future endeavors.  It showed up for me at a time in my life when I knew I was ready to make a change. Along the way I made some real connections.  I have since become friends with many of these amazing, supportive women.  When we chat, whether via the internet, text, or an actual conversation, there is a camaraderie that supersedes the miles between us.

One of the things that doesn't happen often is the face to face meeting.  So when it happens, it is a big deal.  Online relationships are different.  Online you can bare your soul, be as authentic as you want to be and there is a safety in staying behind the computer screen.  The vulnerability of putting yourself out there takes on a whole different meaning.  The dynamic of the friendship is completely different.  So how do you handle the situation when it is time to meet in person?

I had that very situation happen to me today.  I was meeting one of my virtual friends for the first time today.  Now I have met a virtual friend before and she and I are very close.  But how could I be sure this would go as well?  What if she didn't like me?  What if I didn't like her?  What if we were better off internet friends?  So many questions, and yet so unfounded.

After exchanging numbers and a few texts, my new albeit old friend and I decided on brunch.  This was already a win for me.  I love getting together for brunch with friends.  I guess she did too.  I recognized her right away, and while a face to face is always uncomfortable for anyone, it wasn't that bad. It is funny how getting to know someone online is easier, but true connection, sharing space is even better. 

I think I pummeled her with so many questions, she probably felt like she was on a job interview.  But really I think it was about filling in the blanks.  I think we ended up learning just what we were supposed to about each other.  After all, a friendship is built over time.  Making friends isn't always easy, having the internet to be the catalyst is a great way to break the ice.  I have come to believe that the internet can make friends of those who would otherwise be strangers. 

After a delicious meal and some window shopping it was time to say goodbye.  I enjoyed my morning with my new/old friend.  It was the perfect first meeting.  No expectations, just two women sharing a meal and some good conversation.  Isn't it funny that two people that have completely different lives, who had not met in person before, can share a meal and find a friendship?  This making friends thing is new for me.  I am starting so many things anew in my life.  It sure will be nice to have a new girlfriend that understands me. So I guess the song is true, make new friends, but keep thee old........thanks Jilian, my new old friend.

I can't believe it has been a month since I have posted.  I have been so busy and writing seemed to be one of the things on the bottom of the list.  And while it probably should have been at the top, it never crossed my mind.  So here I am, back in Arizona.  It was a decision a long time coming and after it was made, there was no turning back. Truth be told, it isn't that I want to be back in San Francisco, I just find the customs of suburban life a bit, well, different.

I have not been here a week and I am already feeling the shift in lifestyle.  For me it is palpable, to others it is not that big of a deal.  Easy to say when you aren't the one whose life took a sharp turn at the corner of stucco houses and pick-up trucks.  There is a different pace to the suburbs that I haven't experienced in a long time. Fourteen years to be exact.  But the time came for me to decide what was important to me, and that was family.  And while the decision was entirely my own, it doesn't come without its challenges.

One of those challenges is, I am living with my parents temporarily.  I am discovering rather quickly that it isn't really a challenge for them so much as it is for me.  They go with the flow.  Are these the same parents I had growing up?  I can't be sure.  They definitely have their own routine.  What I have noticed is that I am playing the role of younger daughter versus adult daughter.  I think I am putting more pressure on myself to make sure everyone is comfortable.  I recently left the house to come and write.  I told them where I would be and that I wouldn't be home for dinner.  They chuckled, as if to say, it is fine.  The underlying tone being, do what you want, you don't have to tell us what you are doing all the time.  Wait, when did that shift take place?  Wasn't it always, while you under my roof you will do what I say?  Who are these people, and when did they become so cool?  Or were they always cool and I just thought I was cooler?

But it wasn't but twenty some years ago that I did have to tell them my comings and goings.  So that is it, I am transporting myself back plus twenty years to a time when I was a financially challenged and had to move home.  This isn't really the case now.  I am living with them until my home is ready for me to move into.  I have no rules, unless you count the no men staying over, a joke with my Dad but nonetheless, that would never happen.  I have no curfew, I buy my own groceries, I have a car.  The reality is, I, and the contents of my previous apartment are taking up residence in my parents home.  As a result I believe I owe them the respect they deserve, not only as parents, but parents changing their lifestyle to accommodate me.

Life is about changes.  I may no longer have to share the comings and goings of my daily life with my parents. I may not have to be in at a certain hour.  But I do feel the need to show them the same courtesies they have shown me.  I suppose it is what a parent does, in most cases.  If you need them, they are there.  They accommodate the amount of apartment furniture and boxes that have filled their open floor living room/dining room.  They have accepted that the guest bathroom is now a constant mess.  Yes, I have to say my parents have welcomed me home with open arms.  I wonder if it is a matter of time before they do tell me to clean my messy room.  After all, a parent can probably only take so much......

I am a jumper.  I jump in with both feet for the next "anything".  If I am passionate about something then I will go crazy for it.  I don't do it halfway.  I just can't decide if this is a good thing, or a bad thing.  Passion is a wonderful thing, it is what dreams are made of.  I have dreams, I just can't seem to define them all....yet.

When I first started this website and blog it was about garnering the attention of other women in hopes that my simple life would strike a cord with them. I think it has.  This make me so happy.  But as life changes, so have I.  I want more.  I have always wanted to write a book, so that is on my list of to-dos.  I thought about turning this blog into a book.  Of course after being called "Carrie Bradshaw" yet again, I am not sure.  But that isn't everything. I have other ideas in mind, other books that may need to get out.  How do I go from idea to idea and not lose my passion for one?

I have been thinking about this for a long time now.  I have two blogs, this one and a vegan blog.  I have discovered that my readers are completely different.  It feels as if I am asking a hunter to subscribe to veganism.  So I created a second blog and am searching for my place in that genre.  This is not easy, and at times leaves me feeling fractured.  Managing two blogs, two Facebook fan pages, and two Twitter accounts.  It all seems a little overwhelming.  The reality is, it really doesn't have to be.  Isn't this all part of the passion, the dream?

I love technology.  I have found a way to keep up with all my social media on one site.  Gotta love that. Of course it is the interface I have to get used to.  All in good time.   Rome wasn't built in a day.  So I am laying the foundation brick by brick, layer by layer.  I am still looking for ways to simplify the process.  I am just not sure the process is able to be simplified.  I probably wouldn't know what that looks like anyway. 

I do know this. I have found what lights me up.  I have found an enthusiasm for things that make me want to share it with the world. It feeds my soul.  Social media, self promotion, and everything that goes with it can be a full time job.  A full time job that doesn't pay well.  Or at least not in the traditional way.  I am paid, and handsomely.  Every time I have a new follower or a new fan, I feel like I am being richly rewarded.  And while I do it for the "rewards", my main reason for doing it is because it makes me happy.  I love to write, and I really love to write about things I know. 

So that is what I am doing, I am writing about being a single woman, approaching middle age.  Am I really approaching middle age???  And I am writing about being a compassionate vegan.  The two may never intersect in the virtual world.  In my world they are one in the same.  In my readers world?  Not so much.  Guess I will just keep on doing it....one blog at a time, on two sites of course.

I have not written in a while. At least not on this site. Life takes you in funny directions. My life has done that over the past several months. And thru it all, I have not been chronicling the journey here. But that ends now.  I started another blog, "The Vegan Diaries" and that was taking much of my attention. Guess I am not the multi-tasker I think I am. But my passion for writing has not waivered, just detoured a bit.

I have been thinking a lot about the changes we go through and what brings about this change. My personal changes have taken me in so many other directions, but I wondered, is it just me?  I have been talking to my friends lately about change, and the one thing they believe brings about change is the world. Our world has undergone so many changes lately that one can't help but "go with the flow".  So that is what I am doing, going with the flow.

Why is it we don't make changes unless the world is undergoing its own form of adjustment. We have witnessed uprisings in other countries, earthquakes, and tsunamis.  The Earth has even shifted off of its axis. Yes, the world is experiencing a transformation, like it or not.  As a result, its inhabitants begin to evolve.
I have met so many people on a spiritual quest.  People I had never expected to be seeking, are seeking. Myself included.  Now I know many think when times get strange, people need something to believe in.  I know this because I was one of those people.  But what is wrong with believing? 

You can't turn on the TV these days without seeing the undoing of the world creating the hope of positive changes. More and more people want to do their part.  It used to be activism was relegated to the extremists of a cause. Today, it seems more people are finding their causes and becoming "passionate".  I had a conversation yesterday about exterminators. Yes, you read that right.  I questioned the chemicals used by the company and hoped it was non toxic.  The friend on the other end of the phone said, "open the windows and air it out, it won't be that toxic".  Perhaps my form of extremism is for the purpose of educating.  I did say I was changing things in my life, but let's leave it at that.

I think in these uncertain times, extremism has given way to passion. Maybe it is extreme, the tactics used by some.  As a vegan, and wanting to live the vegan lifestyle, I intend to give up all leather.  But that doesn't mean I am going to become a zealot for the cause. It doesn't mean I won't either.  Activism can be such a loaded word. But I will say, I am grateful for the "passion" of these activists, they have paved the way for many great changes.

It is interesting how quickly things can change.  Where the change stems from. I really can't say where my change from being vegetarian to vegan came from. I don't have any vegan friends.  I don't know anyone that celebrated Earth Hour, I don't have any friends in PETA.  This evolution happened on its own, before I even realized it was happening really.  I guess all I can do is let it unfold and go with the flow....

I am going through the process of de-cluttering.  I keep a clean, organized apartment; however, I also have a knack for holding on to things that no longer serve me.  Be it clothing, shoes, even old bill statements.  I am a big fan of not holding on to things that you feel inhibit your growth.  Which brings me to my latest at home project, clearing out the clutter.  Working in the retail industry for the last, well never mind.  Suffice to say working around designer everything,  makes you think $500 for shoes is normal.  That was the way of life for me for far too long.

Now I am not a hoarder by any means.  My tiny studio apartment doesn't lend itself to being a hoarder.  My sense of clutter is in the form of old shoes, handbags, scarves, basically the things that I haven't looked at in a very long time, much less worn.  I may work around luxury goods, but I certainly don't need them in my home.  Of course there is the mind clutter that I think can go hand in hand with the physical clutter.  And let me state right here, I am a very "a place for everything, and everything in its place" kind of girl. So this means identifying what I want to get rid of and then going to that place in the closet and pulling it off the shelf.

I have gone through so many changes over the last year and a half and going through some of these items has made me realize the attachment is more to a period in my life, a life I no longer live.  I don't care about the designer duds like I once did.  I don't need the latest handbag, or the designer cold weather scarf to make me happy. They are not me.  I have many friends who love these things and I have no problem with that, it just isn't what I am about anymore.  Maybe it is also just my attempt at a more zen life.  Or maybe it is just I don't have the room anymore.

It is amazing to me the amount of attachment a physical item can hold for you.  I can look at a pair of shoes, or a handbag and remember where I bought it, what I wore it with, and even possibly what was going on in my life at the time.  But in letting go of the past I need to not only let go of the item, but the memory related to it.  I will keep the memories but let go of the physical object.  These items no longer fit my lifestyle.  There is nothing wrong with that.  But would it be bad or ridiculous to say I wish I had all that money back? Hindsight really is 20/20.  And the funny thing is, most of the items haven't been worn enough to justify the initial purchase.  At least not when I really want a food processor, or a high speed blender.  Yes, it is safe to say my needs have changed.

My needs are much more simple now.  I don't need the things that used to make me happy, I find my happiness in so many other ways.  And let's face it, the more I enjoy this vegan diet, it is bound to become a vegan lifestyle.  Yes, I have looked at vegan shoes and handbags and some are even cute.  I have no problem wearing canvas shoes, carry a pleather bag.  I recently saw a designer handbag that is vegan.  But the fact is I have changed and so have my taste.  It is just a natural progression.

The change happened almost organically (pun intended).  One change led to others.  Life changes and we have to roll with it. Some will do it in designer clothes and some will do it with a high speed blender in vegan shoes.  So I will continue to "clean out" the items that no longer have a place in my life.  I will make way for newness. I would like to think I have learned from my past mistakes.  For instance, why would I buy high heels just to stand on a marble floor all day? I value my feet too much for that.  But I won't deny they do look great on.  Kudos to the millions of women that do that, I am not one of them.   

So I will get busy on this de-clutter project.  I will reminisce about  each and every shoe, each and every handbag.  I will find nostalgia for a life once lived.  I will remember the good times.  And I will remember that every item had value once.  Of course, I will also remember the eventual toll it took on my bank account and  with a little luck I will not have to "clean out" in another few years from the clutter I will accumulate......again.