PART 1With the exception of everything I cling to, unrelentingly, I’m pro at letting go. I just burned years of old journals.
Lib-er-ation. I did a journal cremation about seven years ago that was really freeing. This round, I saw a slightly disturbing pattern in my pages that, I’m happy to say, has long gone up in smoke.I skimmed each book before I offered it to my fire pit.
As I flipped through that past era of my life, I was struck by a beautifully sad fact: so many journals were filled with seeking answers—outside of myself.So the burning wasn’t about letting go of my divorce process, or predictions from clairvoyants, or countless sessions with a particular parasitic healer, or pages of pleading for direction. I was saying farewell to.
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