remnants of a past life (note 3)

Today's been a rather domestic kind of day.

Writing was surprisingly hard this morning. Even body doubling didn't help. I pushed myself to sit through a half-hour sprint, managed to get a few words in, then got away from the screen after that.

Then a walk with KrA through the icy slush that all of yesterday's snow has now turned into. Then a trip to the Indian grocers' to buy vegetables. Then cooking. Okra and bottle gourd on the menu this evening.

Now here to record this snippet of my life.

Tomorrow I intend to undertake a bit of a drive to dispose off some items I sorted yesterday. I've put them in a carton but I'll need to break them into smaller bags to make it easier on my back (which behaves these days as though it belongs to someone twice my age). Let's see how that goes.

I like to finish a job 100% in one go. But the one I'm currently doing will require a couple of trips or more. It's not going to happen all in one day.

I'm learning to cultivate patience, not frustration.

Decluttering can also be a heavily emotional work, especially when it comes to stuff we've been holding on to for sentimental reasons for more than a decade.

Going through them brought a lot of memories and emotions, some nice ones, but not all of them were pleasant. Regret. Grief. Wishing things had transpired differently. Wishing I had shown greater appreciation for what I had then. Wishing I had been happier. Wishing I had known how to.

Sometimes I wish I had been kinder or the other person had been so. Well, I can't control the other person, so then I turn on myself and start wondering if I could have been more compassionate, felt less threatened, didn't feel the pressure to prove myself and seek approval and validation.

But now I see, I did the best I could at that point in time. So did the other person. Now that I know better, I really ought not to be judging my past self from the vantage point of my present self.

So onwards.

Tomorrow, I'll make the trip and come back here to tell you all about it.

To be continued ...