If we measure our days – this Saturday or next Tuesday – grade them by what we’ve done, by what we accomplished, or by what we failed to do …
What if we measure the day, this one or every one, by a new standard?
I choose to look out the window, sip my strong coffee and marvel at how lucky I’ve been, to find myself here and now. I’m well, thriving, happy and planning new experiments, connections and re-connections.
I will write some letters today – otherwise it will be largely idle. Or, idyll?
Maybe I’ll write something more. Or more important.
Isn’t that always the goal, standard, to which all writers ascribe but so rarely achieve?
What is opportunity – limitless, boundless, endless, adventurous?
Wow, whatever we choose to risk …
column written/ published from Calgary, AB
morning walk: 2C/36F, clear, very windy (who would complain about chinook winds when they deliver such warmth?); Gusta happy for the early walk and I was wondering, ‘why didn’t I sleep longer when I had the chance?’
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