This morning I planned to go to school for a few hours to do some work on my computer while it charges. I just threw on some clothes, knowing I would bathe later.
Later on in the day I noticed that each piece of clothing carried some type of significance.
My shoes were an old running pair that I bought hours after completing my first half marathon last May.
The jeans came from a market in Rabat. I bought them with a cold weather allowance when Peace Corps Niger was evacuated and I knew I was returning to blizzard-infested South Dakota where my cotton skirts were not going to cut it.
My pale blue jacket had the South Dakota State University Jackrabbit embroidered on the left chest corner. I bought it with a gift card to the University Bookstore that I received when I was given an employee-of-the-month type award at the Foundation a few years ago.
And my scarf, a faded orange, was bought in Niamey, Niger, during my stay for Stephanie’s memorial. It was sort of retail therapy.
All of these things represent different pieces of my life, but when they come together they are a mismatched lot. Thinking about it now, “mismatched lot” is a perfect way to describe me. A friend lovingly once said, “I think a put-together Heather would be boring.” I agree.
I like the idea that these things are all more than just an assortment of items pulled off the sales rack or were purchased on a regular day. Someday, I want a home full of everything that reminds me of a person or represents a special moment in my life. I rarely buy art or jewelry unless I am traveling. I don’t want something because I liked it; I want it because there is a story behind it.
Through this experience I am getting to know myself better and understanding what makes me happy. And with that I make smarter choices on how I want to live my life by what I do, buy, eat, where, read, watch, ect. It’s exhilarating and gives me a lot of hope in the person I’ll be at the end of this – the real version of me.
In the meantime these random pieces of clothes make me smile because they remind me of how far I’ve come. They remind me of me.