In thinking about this month’s topic, I find myself in a quandary about what to write. After a chaotic and frightening few weeks following Thanksgiving here in the U.S., I’m just thankful to be alive…at least for the immediate future. But nothing is ever guaranteed, and nothing in life really unfolds as we’d like it to. We can plan all we want, but can never count on the stars aligning in the right pattern, or that cosmic monkey wrench out of the blue dashing our dreams. Or those moments of real joy when the impossible is achieved and knowing that nothing will ever take them away.
Like everyone, I’ve made my share of mistakes, and rash choices. I’ve learned to live with them and find my footing on the new trajectory that unfolds, occasionally pausing to look back and ponder how different life would have been…if only. But what purpose does that serve? I can’t change any of it and dwelling on it is not only stupid, it’s self-defeating.
I am who I am based on all I’ve done…mistakes and all. I do what I do—now, this moment—based on the choices I’ve made and road blocks I’ve faced, the battles I’ve fought, lost and won. I’ve arrived at this point in life because of the whole mishmash that has been the cumulative effect of every day, every moment I’ve lived.
I can’t say I would change a thing. To do so would make me someone else. I’m not sure I’d respect that person or be able to call her “me.”
|Coming July 2018|