The days roll by sometimes too fast to etch a notch into them; mark them as mine. I reflect on past accomplishments. The huge triumphs of my 40's and I laugh-a rumbling deep chortle. Oh how silly I was at times; trying to be someone be someone.
There are holy moments of true insight when I get it. I see the abundance, the joy, the lineage, the small wonders of my trip but on other days a gray field when memories fall to inspire and I seek a meaningful experience. A monastery, an island, the church. Some genetic strain to laugh at life often saves me just as I give over. Always wonder about others, do they twist and turn on this, do they want more meaning?
Gratitude for the travel. the stories, the foibles, the silly worries, my usual health, the family in all its lovely chaos and confusion. Being a matriarch is a bitch so much to live up to.
I will return as I always do to the calendar, the book, the next projects, the bills, the appointments and let my musings about life fall aside. Call it denial, call it self preservation. I just need to keep keeping on .
