Self-doubt creeps, suggests I’m not doing something worthwhile, or ‘as worthwhile’ as it ought be.
Some days I believe I’ve written brilliant literature, but world disagrees.
Sometimes, when I’ve written something quickly, short or of little consequence – that connects with someone, on some important level. That proves it all matters, makes these keystrokes worthwhile. That’s magic.
With pens we make anything happen, whether it happened or not.
11½ years of Musing, done.
Little things, whims, paragraphs sent to daughter Carla and six friends become this moving force in my life.
I’ve been observer.
Time to do more.
Seasons whiz by – this mid-life-thing, not so much about realizing how little we’ve accomplished or how little time remains. Rather, realizing how little our greatest efforts matter. Appreciating how powerful smallest ones can be.
Little things matter most of all. Coming late to this party but I think I’ll stay.
Never-ending, never going backwards at all if that could be possible anywhere but in our imagination …
More than long sleeves replacing short.
Wrestling, successfully I hope, with better fitting work, play, life, creativity, business.
Never-ending theme, easily solved with 36 hr. days but that’s as likely as a world turning the reverse way, or sideways. Imagine the sun rising in the west, imagine sunsets in the east. Or better yet, sun rising in the south, makings its way north by nightfall. Would the world be the same? Would we be any resemblance of our former selves.
Stuck, or same, or steady isn’t an answer.
column written/ published from Calgary
morning walk: 6C/43F, empty sky lit well by brilliant sunrise – sun is burning brighter today, means more today – but Gusta didn’t notice at all. She was coy and cooperative – until we reached that pizza debris in the tall grass and she went nuts for a minute. I can relate to relapses when on a diet …