I was born in March of 1967 - this makes me 41, or almost 500 months old.
I was taking a walk today, trying to get some exercise, as my day has become very sedentary: music composition, text editing and composing, reading, sleeping... So I'm trying to get out of the house every day, to walk for a half hour or an hour if I can squeak out the effort.
Today's walk brought with it the opportunity to reflect. And it occurred to me, on that walk, that I was ok, that I was living on the high plains. I have my wife, who is perfect. I have my kids, who are perfect. I have food, shelter, enough extra to buy a book or a phone or a CD or a comic book. I am composing, I am living the life of an artist. I am housecleaning, I am living the life of a wife. I am negotiating, I am living the life of a parent. I have no other wants.
I know this may change, and I am comfortable with this knowledge, as I also have the knowledge that I have taken the summit of the mountain of my own design.
The Gift
-
[Christmas, 1965 or thereabout]
The boy was very young; perhaps 7 or 8 years old. He loved everything about
Christmas - the lights, the music, Santa ...
10 months ago
3 Comments:
I'm lightened to hear you are doing so well.
Megin
You are more than fine!!!!! You are fantabulous!!!
xoxo
Life is good, eh? Me, too. We are brothers in the land of no complaints. Here's thanks to the architect of our happinesses (who may go by a slightly different name for us both, but who is probably amused by that fact.)
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