Spontaneously today I thought of this leather wallet above, and could not remember where I had put it. I knew where it WAS and what I HAD been using it for...then a big blank. Darn. Where was it now? I am one who does not like to misplace things, makes me a little batty.
I asked J. if he'd seen it? Could it have fallen into the nearby trashcan and then thrown away?
In talking to J. and racking my brain, I reflected on the fact that I've had this particular piece since I was 17 or 18 years old. I'm fond of it. I like leather. Now, where could it be?
Just as spontaneously, while doing my stretches, I remembered where it was, in the car. I had J. bring it back in and placed it somewhere safer, because clearly it holds more meaning to me than I'd thought.
Then I came across this video. Timing.
How to make people get rid of stuff (with Matt Paxton & Zoe Kim)
LINKOf course the timing could be perfect for me at ANY time, as I am always cleaning out belongings! haha.
The video and Well Gathering seemed to mesh together for me...belongings (sentimental and otherwise)...clearing, packing...memories, healing, letting go of stuff (physical or emotional). It felt like one big messy circle.
So with all of this in mind, I grouped together my other Leather Loves (much like I had with my small bags and medicine bag a while back).
I still use this checkbook cover...since the late 1970's. I guess one can't say I don't get my money's worth out of things! Anyway, it is hard to tell, but the design on it is one of plant life. lol I love the lil oval pouch and the Buffalo Nickel (also from the late 1970's) one too. Of course, that is why I still have them!
The little back coin purse was my grandmother's. I can still remember taking her to get her hair done. As I waited for, I'd sit under an empty hairdryer and doze. I was 17. After we'd go next door to the corner drug store. She'd take this lil black coin purse out to make her purchase, pulling out her folded dollar bills. It seems she always needed a new red lipstick. After dropping her back at her assisted living home, I would head out to the beach or to the 3rd Street Promenade to window shop. In the 1970's it was an outdoor mall, storefronts half empty...with a few funky shops I loved. I bought my leather, open-toed huaraches there. This one story, memorized, of the few times I took her to the hair salon are treasured for me. They remain an important picture of who we were together in that era, as well as who I was alone in that era. It's funny how outsized the memories are in comparison to the little black coin purse.
Everything is now in a safe, known place. They don't take up much space and remain useful. I like that.
xo
Photos by NAE @pomegranatetrail ©2024
