Keyless

My friend and I had a conversation about keys today, and it seemed a blog-worthy conversation. She's finishing out her life here in Taiwan, and is heading to an exciting new adventure to work on her Master's in Scotland. Let me just say, because it has nothing to do with our conversation, that she will be missed. She has the character to leave a place better off than when she came, deserved or not. You have to admire that.

Anyway, about our conversation. She commented that she now has one key to her name, and that is to her house in the states. All other keys have been dispensed: scooter key, apartment key, classroom key, desk key...all are gone. It's a strange feeling, being keyless. I remember when we came overseas the first time. I had a really hard time with being keyless, and it surprised me. It wasn't the keys themselves...they were bulky and bothersome. It's the ownership they represent. The responsibility. So when you are suddenly keyless, there is a sense of letting go. It is transition in it's most basic form, at least for me. It's the moment that hits me: I'm moving on. No key to open the front door of the house. No key to lift the trunk to put groceries in the car. No key to open the classroom door or set up my desk for the day.

Funny how something so small can represent so much. I had about a day of pondering about my keys, then I was given an amazing sense of freedom. Freedom from stuff. It's fun knowing you can do much more when not encumbered by earthly things. Don't get me wrong...things are great. But once you're keyless, you begin to see how much time and energy is spent caring for stuff, and what a small amount of time is spent on the things that matter. In the end, stuff will just be passed around to loved ones. The influence and impressions we leave on our loved ones mean much more.

So this post is for my keyless friend, Sabrina, and her new freedom as she travels abroad. She came, she saw, she transformed, and she moved on.

Blessings!