Taking the afternoon off. Earlier I opened my closet, moved the brown suede boots, the black boots with heels, the box of letters that date back 15 plus years. I pulled out two boxes of writing, my writing, from high school forward. It's the next step in this purge process. One was sort between keep, toss, give and recycle. Two was sort and put all the keep in appropriate rooms. Three was organize each room. Four is now. Seeing everything in it's place, reassess. One room, one closet, one drawer at a time. Same four options. There I was with my writing, sitting on my knees, pulling notebook after notebook, waiting for a light, a sign, to know which ones to bring with me wherever I'd go next. As I flipped old lined pages, I wasn't impressed. Some, a few, I threw away. Then I put back a pink spiral, closed the boxes, replaced the letter box and boots. Today I decided is not for sorting my old mind. Still, I see this is next, part of step four whether I like it or not. So tomorrow or the second day of November I'll begin again(I've started this daunting task before, made progress, but left it unfinished), dive in to the boxes of history told in angst and boredom, frustration and immaturity, joy, intensity and inspiration. I'll seek out the gems, discard the dead withered pieces. I'll read slowly and quickly, savoring some, holding some aside for revision or at least revisiting and nearly ignore others as they make the waste pile. And when this process is done? Could be I'll fly!