the sound of a distant train

As I shift things around in my house my mind drifts to all the new adventures I’ve yet to encounter. On the floor of my living room I’m building three piles of all the things I’ve accumulated over the past several years. 

One pile contains all the things I want to come back to, a collection of soft and comforting thoughts to welcome me home.  
Another, the largest of the three piles, is built of all the things that no longer serve me. Everything I’ve collected and, for one reason or another, found no particular reason to continue hanging onto. 
Last and, in this case, also least, is the small collection of things I will be taking with me. Purely utility, this pile includes mostly hiking and camping gear, a few books and a small collection of outdoor attire. The most recent addition to this area of my living room floor is a pair of durable, waterproof, italian leather hiking boots which will double as a sturdy work boot for my permaculture practice. 
Each of these piles represents a totally different frame of mind. Basically, my headspace, much like the physical space I occupy, is divided into three distinct piles.
I have, in this lobe, between these folds of gray matter, the thoughts of all the people, places and the various “works in process” that I hope will be here to welcome me back. With all the great friendships that have developed for me and all the projects I’m starting to see grow and progress, I feel that I’ll find it difficult to say goodbye. And so, like the pile on my floor, I put these things in a place that I can come back to with the hope that I will one day again have the opportunity to appreciate their fine qualities.
Then there is the large load of karmic accumulations that I will leave behind entirely. In the physical world… this is the largest of the three piles. In my figurative headspace, this is pile is actually quite small and mostly made up of intangibles. Things like a 50+ hour a week job, rent on my little North Hydepark cottage, and other stresses and obligations that go along with such vestiges of my “modern” lifestyle.
lastly, and conversely NOT least, is the space that I store all the dreams, goals and aspirations of what’s to come. Between almost every thought and idea there is a whisper of the adventures ahead. Like the sound of a distant train, these thoughts are increasing in size and volume, not far now from permeating the entire landscape that is my mind. As the steady hum of this approaching train draws nearer, I realize its becoming more and more difficult to focus on all things still hanging out in the other two piles. Drowning out many of the less significant things I would normally occupy my time with, the only things that really seem capable of still capturing my attention are the ones that are starting to shout at me through the recognition that I’m clearly not paying them nearly as much heed as I once had (ahem… utility bills, for example, have a good way of reminding me I need to maintain focus for just a little while longer).
And so, for a little while longer at least, I realign my focus and anchor my resolve so that the sound of this approaching train does not uproot me before I’m all aboard!

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