End of week reflections..

Well how about that? Friday already. Time to reflect upon the week.

So many moments...how do we remember them all? In fact we don't. Some moments just drift on by, never to be recovered again. And if you look at things in a realistic way...we are but tiny blips on the continuum of time. In the scheme of things our life seems insignificant in the history of the universe.

Yet here we are alive and here to see another moment pass through our periphery. And there goes another one!

This week I have been feeling more laid back, less anxious, and more grateful. I can't say why I am feeling this way but I feel more at ease with letting the moments pass and just enjoy them as they come. I am feeling more okay about my "smallness" in the world. There is beauty in the process of becoming. I am not sure what it is I am becoming but I do know that I can't hold back change. It comes for all of us.

So let go....breathe...and embrace the moment. There won't ever be another one like it.

Reflections at the End of the Stream...

Well here we are...the end of the week...and what do we have to show for it?

I for one have grattitude. Found out that there is nothing seriously wrong with me health wise. Just the usual Multiple Sclerosis. And two small fibroids and one temporary ovarian cyst. Okay okay I promise to not discuss my female anatomy again. I take that back...I probably will.

I also have one hole in my kitchen ceiling from a water leak fiasco.

Plumbing issues was the theme of my week! :>)

But aside from these temporary setbacks...I am feeling quite chipper. I really am. I am not going to question it...I will just go with it.

I want to get back to writing...really writing. As opposed to what? This pseudo writing? Oh you know what I mean. I have it in me? Right? I can see success...signs of tangible success...and it terrifies me. I will tell you the truth...that writing for me is as much a wall to the world as it is a bridge. I love to hide in words. It is safe here...mostly.

Spring is here. You can smell it. Soon the sweet smell of grass clippings will permeate the air. Allergens will also breed sneezes and wheezes...the price you pay for pretty flowers and budding trees. Spring was my maternal grandfather's favorite season. I hadn't known this until his funeral years and years ago. My grandmother wailed, "But he will not get to see Spring come again, his favorite season." For some strange reason I think of her lament each spring. Both of them...long gone and cold in the ground, have not seen Spring as we know it for over a decade. But I will. And I am grateful. I suppose I am reaching the age where I wonder where my season will end. But that is another story for another time.

It seems I have turned more contemplative. My moods twist and turn even as evident by this one solitary post. And I am grateful for that too. I know I shouldn't be...I should be level headed and even keeled. But I'm not. This is me. I am up and downy. And that's okay.

It's all good.

I am glad to be here to move quietly into the next moment...here it comes. Catch it...because before you know it, it will be gone.