When my mind ceases to react, I try a number of mental exercises to get it going again.  One is to let my eyes rove around and see the clutter that I have 'decorated' my apartment with.  There is the perfect little white Christmas tree that I can't seem to part with.  It is prettier now, it seems, than it was two weeks after the holidays when I found it discarded with some trivia at the trash pile.  It has shed so much that the delicate little white limbs stand out in profile.  I'm sure there is some lovely story attached to it.  I have no idea who the first owners were, or how they anticipated the joy that it might bring.