I walked down the trail this morning, with my thoughts and a smile. I feel pretty good, in spite of arthritis pain, in spite of a handful of chronic conditions that do slow me down (but generally don’t stop me). I’m grateful for the changes in health science that find me, at almost 63, in the same relatively good health as my grandparents were in their forties. Progress.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
I do my best to take care of myself. It’s vexing when the guidance changes over time, but that is a necessary consequence of progress. Unfortunately, it’s also an unfortunate consequence of human stupidity or corruption and greed, and it’s sometimes less than obvious where changes have come from. Right now, it’s mostly pretty obvious, because the fucking clown car of corrupt greedy assholes in our government are like cartoon villains, and pretty easy to spot.
This morning the only thing that matters, really, is this moment here, and this path I’m walking.
It’s a lovely mild Spring morning. I think of dear friends, faraway, and remind myself to reach out. Life is precious and too short. Our best moments are in the company of our dear friends.
I think about the garden. It rained during the night. If the afternoon is warm it will be a great time to plant new starts. I remind myself to get going on that.
It’s a short work day ahead. The Anxious Adventurer is coming by a little later to complete some moving details, and help move things around after his furniture is moved out. It’s a milestone and a bittersweet moment. I’ll admit, I have mixed feelings about it; it could have gone quite differently. Ah, but here we all are with choices made and actions in progress. I’m looking forward to having my space back, and my own bathroom, and enough room to paint, and more privacy for sex with my Traveling Partner (no kidding, that’s just real).
We choose our path and walk it. I watch the full moon setting. It’s time to begin, again.
Evening Light 