Its times when I seem to lose my grip on my own happiness. I am suddenly gnawing on all the small problems that are part of the fabric of daily life, and I can no longer gain access to the juicy bits, the good stuff, that is lying all around me just waiting for me to notice it.

I’m in the dumps.

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I came home and was trying to decide all the way if I was going to just start drinking ice-cold vodka martini’s or if I would maybe go for a walk or a run instead. I hadn’t made up my mind and I couldn’t, either. Vodka, run, vodka, run….

Yolie told me to go out on the deck and meditate.

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So I did.

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The sun was going down behind the tall pines to the north, behind the house, and the sky above the deck was flawless blue.
Every once and a while a bird flew over me. The magnolia shivered and its wooden, waxy leaves clattered like a million marionettes applauding the breeze. Trucks rumbled by on Main street and kids screamed and laughed and got called in for dinner.

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I am a maniac to find a small unhappiness.

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I am undone by my own abundant blessings.

Cursed by my wiring.

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I love it all.

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