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Find My Purpose? In This Mess?

Find My Purpose? In This Mess?

by Jeff Wozer

Liv Fun: Vol 5 – Issue 2

I, without my consent, own 57 T-shirts. How or when this happened, I don’t know. I thought maybe 20, 25 at the most. But not 57. It’s an embarrassing number, bordering on fetish.

Even more embarrassing is that I weighed the T-shirts, the cause behind this triggered more by guilt than curiosity. For they say it’s not what you eat that creates guilt-inducing motivation, but rather how much you weigh.

I felt like a king-fool weighing the tees, one stack at a time, on the bathroom scale. But this foolishness paled compared to the brain-bending shock of discovering I’m T-shirt obese. I own 26 pounds of them. I don’t know what my ideal T-shirt weight should be, but I’m guessing I’m at least 20 pounds over.

I’d been experiencing difficulty closing my dresser drawers as of late but blamed it on careless folding rather than extra pounds. A classic case of living in denial.

The genesis of this unwanted discovery stemmed from a Huffington Post article I stumbled across online titled “Life After 50: Are You Stuck? Lose the Clutter and Find Your Life.” The author suggested shedding clutter — hence the clever title — as a means of freeing ourselves from feeling stuck in old ways with the ultimate intent of finding our second-half purpose in life.

Not that possessing a purpose dominated my every waking thought, but the idea of having a life-lubricant, something that would make me bound out of bed drunk with ambition, hit me as a sound idea.

This T-shirt thing was like uncovering a deep secret about myself. How did this happen? Was I buy-polar? And, ultimately, how will shedding a few pounds of T-shirts contribute to finding life’s purpose?

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Liv Fun

by Leisure Care
Summer 2016
View Table of Contents

Advice for the Journey
by Arica VanGelderen, LLMSW

Q: I have always been an independent person, almost to a fault. I wait until the absolute last minute to ask my husband for help opening a jar, carrying the groceries inside, or even fixing the flat tire on my bike! I hate being seen as someone who needs help doing anything.

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Find My Purpose? In This Mess?

by Jeff Wozer

I, without my consent, own 57 T-shirts. How or when this happened, I don’t know. I thought maybe 20, 25 at the most. But not 57. It’s an embarrassing number, bordering on fetish. Even more embarrassing is that I weighed the T-shirts, the cause behind this triggered more by guilt than curiosity. For they say it’s not what you eat that creates guilt-inducing motivation, but rather how much you weigh.

Read More

I Broke Angkor Wat

by Pam Mandel

The crowd faced east, awaiting the rising sun. Seeking a little space from which to observe what was billed as a transcendental moment, our little group of friends wandered across the open grass to a freestanding pavilion of delicately carved 12th century stone. In bracing myself between the footing and the window sill, I pulled away a chunk of rock about the size of a loaf of bread.

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