Losing Weight

What does a key weigh?

An ounce?

Less?

Without realizing it, I was about to find out. I walked into what would soon be my former office, looked around, and it hit me that all of the little nooks and crannies that one makes their own when they're given a space to dwell in, will no longer be mine. It's amazing how intimate we become with space and things in an avid quest to make them our own - personalize them - create something that we can feel comfortable in. There are the drawers in your desk and what you put where. The things you hang on the wall - things that make you smile or think or that remind you to be brave or kind or that inspire you. How you arrange your desktop and what photographs you choose to put there. Whether or not you choose soft lighting with some lamps you've brought from home or if you're okay with the overhead lights. It's all a reflection of who we are and how we want to present ourselves to others.

As I moved about my office, I removed things from the bulletin board, filled a small box with a toiletries bag I kept in the cabinet, some office supplies that I bought with my own money and some snacks from the desk. I left the candy jar I bought long ago hoping that it will still be enjoyed by those that remained, and continue to be a reason for people to stop by so connections could be made - connections that wouldn't have been made if it weren't for the candy jar. Everybody likes candy. Everybody needs connection to others. Candy creates connections.

After I was done, I found an envelope, took one last look around, turned off the lights and shut the door. I put my key in the lock and turned it. The familiar click sounded, securing all that was inside. I put the key in the envelope, slid it under the door and looked at it through the door window for a moment. Then walked away.

It was then that I figured out what a key weighs.

About 500 pounds, give or take.

500 pounds of stress and pressure and unhappiness and humiliation were gone. I was free of it. Those things weren't my problem anymore. I had made a tough decision and I was the better for it. Even if the unknown future was pretty scary, I knew that it had to be better than what I just walked away from. It made me feel stronger and lighter and clearer than I had for so long. 

And I was proud of myself.

An unfamiliar feeling.

But I could get used to it.