Memories Not Material

Sometimes you have to focus on yourself. Take care of yourself, you can’t fix everyone and everything. Not everyone has your best interest at heart, they have their own. There comes a time when you have to realize that you are the only person responsible for your happiness and no one else is ever going to be able to accomplish that for you. It is not someone else’s job. That’s a tall order, mom’s do it for their children until they can navigate on their own. Adults need to do it for themselves.

I have learned repeatedly in the last year the things that truly matter. There have been 3 major deaths and the lesson remains the same. Strip back all of the extras, go down to the bare bones and necessities and you will see what is important, what things matter, what matters from an emotional standpoint. The materials are not important, once you leave here, that stuff remains. The more things you have, the more stuff to fight over. My dad was big on having minimal things of value, for this reason, he didn’t want anyone to fight over stuff, he took it out of the equation because keeping the family intact mattered to him most.

I am about to do a purge of material possessions and people in my life because I am in a place where I want simple. Simple, focus, clarity, peace, and happiness. I am working on redefining what that is for me. What is simple yet enhances my day-to-day life. It is not about the latest phone, car, etc. For some people those things improved some part of their lives, for me I believe it is the experiences of actually living, making memories. Loving and caring on a more pure level. I will live with less to have more time to do more. It has always been a dream to travel with my children more and show them places like the Grand Canyon, not leave it in their school texts. There is so much out there waiting to be experienced and memories to be made. When all of the stuff is gone, it’s the memories that carry on.


Published by izzysconfessions

I was born and raised in the smallest of towns in Southwest Virginia. A town that is extraordinarily active, yet a town that is like it's very own little mini Bible belt. My dad was Baptist, my mom pentecostal, and I'm paranormal. I would venture to say it is somewhat of a family trait. One that is met with equal acceptance and curiosity as much as it is met with skepticism. Individually and collectively so much has been experienced and witnessed at times to such a degree that one might wonder how on earth there is room for doubt. I dont have all the answers, I do not have it all figured out. Im as human as everyone else relying heavily many mornings on a lot of coffee and a little Jesus. In fact, I can't decide what I want for dinner most days. One constant is I cannot go a single day without chocolate. Pour a cup of coffee, or a little tea and whiskey and join me in my confessions of a haunted freak.

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