The other night I had to go back to the place I used to call home. I needed to meet Joe Bob there to pick up some papers. I arrived early, and while I was waiting I sat in the car and stared at the house. It is as dark and dreary as I remembered. I couldn’t help thinking about how different – less depressing – the atmosphere of where I currently live is compared to this place.

I tried to think of a time when I was happy there, but nothing came to mind. Sure there were times when I looked happy, but it was not a real happiness. Most of my memories of my life there are filled with feelings of sadness, anger, nervousness, confusion, and fear. What a startling contrast to how I feel now! Not being consumed by those negative feelings has certainly made a difference in my life.

Towards the end of the evening I had an opportunity to pick up a few more of my things. As I stood there staring at everything I left behind, it dawned on me that I felt little to no attachment for most of what I saw. For the most part, I was looking at stuff I no longer wanted. I think I finally realized that holding onto that stuff would be like holding onto my depression – preventing me from continuing to move forward. This revelation felt rather odd. After all, for many years I placed a huge value on all that stuff.

The short amount of time I spent in the house was enough to remind me of how far I’ve come, and how far I want to go. It also reminded me of how thankful I am to be out of that oppressive atmosphere.