The contents of a purse reflect the contents of a life. I don’t know if that is true, but much like a conversation we were having about dog choices, what dog you own, there has to be something that is (maybe less) reflective about what a person carries with them at all times.
I want to be straight to the point in life. My purse reflects that. I carry a cell phone, if I remember it. I do not have phone attachment, and ignore it by chance when I am not ignoring it intentionally.
I actually carry checks. That could go. I can’t remember the last time I wrote a check for anything other than a bill. OK, so I’m booting those out as archaic remnants. Now I will have to look around me. I need to open my eyes to items that are here just because I haven’t taken the time to oust them.
I have cards, not many. Cash. Keys, no extras, house and car.
There are two tubes of Burt’s Bees lip stuff. Why two? The first is a minty flavor that sometimes burns, especially with chemo. The second jumped in, mild, like coconut. I could toss the mint one, but it seems wasteful, so I use it occasionally.
I carry information. I have a list of phone numbers for when the cell phone is missing or dead. There are little notes, information I might forget yet need, like gate codes or coffee flavors (other’s coffee flavors).
Usually, a pen or two can be found. Useful.
I might have a list or two of things I’m collecting, grocery items or Christmas stuff. And there are coupons, old fashioned ones, the things Fred Meyer sends through direct targeting.
If I understand correctly, that will end in 2021 when they go fully virtual. They might lose me to that. I would have to learn something new about my phone. I would have to think it was worth learning, and it probably isn’t.
And lastly, and most tellingly, a few masks live in the center pocket. One is decorative, and almost never useful for me. I also have two knock off versions of the N95, the KN95. Makes me laugh. But I carry a brand new one and one that I have been using recently. Those three masks wave flags of my personal presentation to the world. My less safe, artistic self is riding along, but rarely seen publicly, too risky. I have a back up plan, almost always, yes. And I choose the safest alternative available for addressing the viruses of my life.
And that, in a nutshell, does describe a form of me. Intentional, practical, minimal. My purse negates the wild side. Maybe that is a part where the world must look more deeply. The wild side lives within, inside the realm of art, of creation, of Spirit. Maybe there will be a shift. Maybe it is happening now. The wild side is trading places within us. We will wake up, and surprise ourselves. Maybe.
micheleplumbstowell.org 