Possessions: as winter is making pathetic attempts to come to DC, I watch the squirrels trying to stow away as much as they can in their precious caches. Today before the sun was up, I went and visited mine. It was the Friday evening when I put the lock on my cache, and it took me over a month to go back. I had been wearing the same 5 outfits for over a month, a black cotton dress, jeans, a stripe shirt, a charcoal v-neck, a black shirt, a hoodie. I would have stayed away longer but the jeans ripped. I sat and looked at the lock on the unit for a good 5 min through tear stained eyes before I opened it that first time. My entire life, stuffed into a 10x15 room. It was incredible how emotionally charged that incident was, I couldn't breath. It was difficult looking at the physical evidence of the drastic change I had made. I would be antsy and anxious every time I headed up after that, however this morning at 6:30am things were different. As I looked at the possessions I had acquired throughout the years, boxes and boxes, all my things taped and labeled, there was no emotional reaction (nor has there been for some time now), I was at peace with what had happened, content with where my life was going. It is true that I long for the day when I will have all my things in one place with a large and spacious kitchen where all my dishes can finally breath, but today is not that day. I can't even remember what is in some of those those boxes. I moved from 2200 sq. ft to 220 sq. ft 7 months ago and I am realizing more and more which "things" really matter in my life, which possessions to keep close.