Let the essence flow,
the genie out of the bottle, be.
the return of the books
stopped reading to jot that in one of the notepads on my desk
WHAT IS MY MISSION?
as an author — blogger — human being — daughter — mother — wife — artist — gardener — culinary aficionada — golfer — beauty + music enthusiast
I have been trying to do something but do not know what that is. There is a calling, an almost inaudible whisper, around me. Looking for that elusive purpose, although it might have already happened. It’s possible (Freudian slip: wrote impossible + had to double-cross out the im).
ē-ˈlü-siv | -ˈlü-ziv:
a: tending to evade grasp or pursuit b: hard to comprehend or define c: hard to isolate or identify
I learned recently from a third party (how frou-frou) that I made a big impact on someone I met over thirty years ago. HOW. IS THAT. POSSIBLE? When the mere memory or mention of his name, which doesn’t happen often, filled me with shame and regret? With thoughts of that was one of the worst times in my life, not the young man, but the whole period, the me in my head (and I’ve had many dark periods). I would physically shiver, mentally brush it off. Furiously. And yet it was positive. I don’t know the particulars, the why or because. What I do know is that my mind cataloged it improperly; granted: on paper perhaps not, but, in the big scheme of things, why did I hold on to it with such disgust? In the end, it doesn’t matter, except to dearly remind me that
what I think … may not be
As I like to point out, though seldom, as most of us don’t like to hear it: thinking something does not make it a fact.
Went back to the list and wrote answers in blue ink. Amazingly enough, almost all the responses point to: give — teach — heal.
Most things I worry about never happen anyway.Tom Petty