I’m sorting through a collection of things I’ve gathered through the years. I’m preparing to move and know that now is the time for me to go through a major, streamlining process.

I’ve discovered boxes and boxes of photographs as well yearbooks from high school and college days.

In the previous moves that I’ve made, I’d simply pack things up and move them along with me; however, I’ve decided now in Act 3 of my life, it’s time for me to move more LIGHTLY.

Through the process of consciously choosing to move LIGHTLY, I’m discovering such joy in simply letting go.

I’m finding that I’m not pondering about what to keep and what to discard. I’m simply trusting my heart and following its lead through this process.

And how does this look?

Well, this morning bright and early I felt myself compelled to begin the day with a swim at Barton Springs.

The water at Barton Springs is spring fed and is a constant temperature of 68 degrees . . . some people might say that’s some rather cool water.

And, I admit that the spring-fed water at Barton Springs is cool; however, today as I was entering the water, I realized how symbolic my entrance into the invigorating water was to the process of sorting through pictures and things collected through my Act 1 and Act 2 years.

I entered the water at Barton Springs today by taking a step at a time.

I found it so easy to descend the stairway into the water, simply breathing, and taking a step at a time. And then . . .

In an instant, just taking a full-body plunge into the Barton Springs water.

I didn’t think about it. I just did it.

For just a very brief moment, the cool water took my breath away; however, the result was so freeing that my movements through the water became so effortlessly grace-filled.

And so you might say I’ve taken the plunge into sorting through pictures and things, doing so by taking a step at a time.

I’m not hanging out with any picture or thing for an extended period of time and taking a trip down a nostalgic memory lane.

The picture or item either speaks to me or not.

And how might a picture or thing speak to me?

It’s the essence in the object I’m holding . . . an essence that serves as a springboard, encouraging me to bring a quality captured in the item into living with me in the here and now.

One item I recently discovered packed away was a white envelope with my mother’s distinctive hand-writing, Bobby’s curly lock from his first haircut.

I opened the envelope and discovered a golden curl tied with a blue ribbon. The hair was so soft to my touch.

The softness of the hair touched my heart and awakened me to knowing that even though my hair now is buzzed very short and rather white . . . that the golden, curly-haired Bobby McCreight is still very much alive in me.

Yes, this lock of hair served as a springboard for me into the here and now of living . . . tapping into the sweet, sweet spirit of the child within me, forever young in spirit.

Yes, there is indeed room in the inn in my new home for the white envelope, preciously holding the golden lock of my hair, captured from an early Act 1 scene in my life . . . a scene from downtown East Moline’s Pinky’s Barbershop.

Loving you,

Robert, aka Bob

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