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Don’t trust the weather forecast.


It was supposed to be in high sixties, even seventies. Skimpy tops, shorts, windbreaker type of weather.

I packed accordingly. To be presented with rain, clouds and a blustering wind.

I survived. A worn out, tired full of doogle-berries and paper thin jacket (last minute addition to my packing) plus aforementioned windbreaker saw me through.

Back home I rummaged for a light jacket. Wishing I’d had one the previous week.

But I hadn’t. And I survived just fine.

So how much of the stuff hanging in my closet do I really need?

How much of it can I donate and still have more than enough?

So how much of my public persona do I really need?

How much can I shed?

How much pretense and posturing can be discarded?

How far can I strip down to the real me to discover –

“I’m just fine.”


Hoto by Manuel Chinchilla on Unsplash

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