I already decided how to live my life.
But sometimes I catch a glimpse of my face reflected in a mirror and I see a grim looking dude.
Where’s his heart at?
Has he lost it along the way?
It strikes me because I think of myself as pretty happy. A balanced life, a deep appreciation for beauty and goodness and wildness and a refusal to shrink from the gritty business of it all.
So I see this mean son of a bitch, it sets me back on my heels.
I want to buy the guy a beer, put my arm around him, get him to loosen up.
But I am a nervous fellow, and grim in my particulars.
And as this morning’s yoga session pointed out to me, quite inflexible.
But I have made a salmon chowder and I have committed some art and for a brief moment our child is in the house and speaking to us and nothing is on fire or exploding.
So we count our blessings.
I am up to a brazillion so far.
Namaste to you.