Any surprise that my year of no new clothes and learning to be satisfied with less led to the liquidation of a four year old storage unit? Between the pesky monthly charge, forgetting to submit it for reimbursement, and the sinking knowledge that the likihood of my using anything in it every again, the storage unit was reminding me of my overpriviligedness. So much abudance that I have to put some of it somewhere else than in my house? How silly.

Begun in 2005 when I moved to the Middle East, this storage unit in Dulles, VA, USA, held my various knick knacks (which both my husband and father would call junk) and art purchased on a graduate student’s budget.

Opening all the gray tubs, tubs I bought when still a Wal-mart shopper, was like uncovering one of those elementary class time capsules. I found photos of once close friends who now are strangers; half finished projects of less frantic times.

I had exactly one hour to go through this treasure trove of the person I was which was both a blessing yet seemed really cruel under the inquisitive eyes of Stan and my husband.

Both seemed to see their role as the trimmers of my young life.

The awaiting mini-van we had rented to take the towels, silverware, blender, and other sundry items to the Salvation Army, was stocked to the roof of things I hoped others would find uses for.

It was no surprise that amongst the things that I did keep – besides the dozens of photos from childhood – were my journals. Having started the daily habit of writing for 15 minutes each morning in 1996, there were at least 6 years of journals in the storage unit. I may never read any of them, part prayer, part musings, often ranting and raging, but they are evidence of my longest and oldest habit (that I’m proud of anyway).

It’s evidence of the discipline I brought to graduate school and saw me through endless dissertation rewrites. And also proof that if I really want to, I can adapt to a regular exercise regime. I can finish the 5th draft of my novel. I can and do so much if I just let myself.

Here’s to doing what I say I will.

Getting rid of the storage unit, minimizing my stuff, and being happy with what I have.

Now if only I could be happy where I am…. but maybe that’s for 2010.