I’m going to beautiful Asheville, NC this weekend for a conference. I started to think about the things I would need to take with me this past weekend.
As I was doing so, I had to laugh, remembering a time when going away for the weekend meant deciding to do so no more than 20 minutes before my departure and putting a few tops and a toothbrush into my pillowcase.
I sometimes wonder if there is any semblance of that careless young woman left in me. I do think that the way that I wonder, or perhaps the way that I ask the question, is wrong.
While she could go away at a moment’s notice there were many things she could not do which I should focus on, rather than wishing I had, or could somehow regain, that reckless abandon. She could not pay her own way. She could not set healthy boundaries. She could not state her needs. She could not be appropriately proud of her accomplishments.
So I’ll choose to look at the fact that it takes me two days, not twenty minutes, to pack for a trip of equal length as evidence of growth. I’ll own the fact that I know that should I forget my Neti Pot or my noise canceling headphones I will be miserable. And I will follow my packing list exactly, because while somewhere inside of me there still exists some trace of the gypsy I used to be, these days I am a list-maker and a very measured risk-taker.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a to-do list to get back to.