“I have a new couch,” one of my coworkers reports, as I walk through the fitness-center doorway. “It was a gift from a client. It is in excellent condition.”
“Congratulations?” I offer tentatively because both her facial expression and vocal tone relay something other than joy about her recent acquisition.
“I don’t think I like it—already,” she says. “I have had it less than a week, and I feel completely tied down. A couch is too much commitment.”
“Too much commitment?” I ask in confusion, “To receive a free couch?” Although we work together, we usually only exchange information during our individual comings and goings. She works as a personal trainer, while I teach classes.
“Yes, too much commitment. Everything I need to help my clients is in the seven boxes of books I have. For myself, I only need two large duffle bags for clothing and linens, along with a small box of my favorite kitchen utensils.
“Where ever I go, I find a semi-furnished room to rent that includes kitchen privileges, and I am good to go,” she continues explaining.
“A couch does not fit into my hatchback, nor is it something I can load on my own. I need to be free to move about. Yes,” she states more emphatically, having come into a state of internal alignment. “It goes. A couch definitely does not fit my lifestyle.”