Watching Memories Fly

We held a garage sale yesterday, in preparation for The Big Move.

It was disconcerting to watch objects from my memories fly away in someone else's hands. I'm convinced that these things had to go, and I was excited as I saw our piles growing smaller and smaller, so it wasn't too hard to let them go.

Life changes. I am not the girl I was when I hid that book from my brother 10 years ago. I am not the girl who sat on those chairs at Christmas and sulked because we got ham and not roast chicken. I am someone else.

This thought is intensely liberating. If I am not that girl, then I have no reason to still carry guilt about what that girl did. I have no reason to believe I am still that arrogant, nerdy little brat. I would not now do what she has done, so why carry vestigial remnants of her?

I was reading Poke the Box today, and I saw the value in this book for me, because it shows me where I still limit myself according to what I have been. Failure is the partner of exploration. Failure doesn't define us.

Praise the Lord that we can choose to be someone new every day and be open to the limitless possibilities.