New Year, New Who?

I struggle with moving on. I'll get a burst of motivation every once in a while and I'll take steps in the right direction. But generally I want to hold on. I want to reason with myself, and with the great beyond, that this right here in front of me is valuable and still necessary. It's powerful and it deserves another chance. It's not time for its inevitable end.

And as I struggle internally to let go, I look down and I'm holding an old t-shirt with holes in the armpits that I never wear because I think it's unflattering. Or because it reminds me of a version of myself that I've yet to come to terms with. I'd be uncomfortable conversing with Marcus Brown at age 22, for example...

Please come to my house and throw away half of my belongings, or give them to someone else, because when I have to play the executioner my heart bleeds and only one of us is spared.

These artifacts persist, even though I'd like to move on.  And I know, that if forcibly removed, I wouldn't miss their presence. I'd be freed to breathe and bask in the newness and the space created in their absence. 

Am I holding on or are they?

I've come to realize that my struggles to release that which has played out, which has served its purpose, is seemingly systemic. Old loves, old clothes, old ideas, old versions of myself, all of which are ready for release in service of their own futures... and of mine. 

Why won't anything change?

Well, Marcus, because you want things to stay the same...

You're attached to certain themes, to places, to groups of people, to old shirts.

You want more new? You've gotta make room.

 

-mb

 

 

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