Strapping on the day, my mind muddled by the residue of a sleepy wake, I want to go back to bed. We all have our own stories to live and how we write those narratives matter. Me, I want to know I lived strong with integrity searching for how to love in nobility for all involved. Spice me with humor and a good time & this GoGo knows it will be all right.
The older I get, the less power my walls have over the truth of the matter. Grief is just a real an experience as happiness and euphoria. Without one, the other can only live in a shallow ego space. Without balance, we inevitable tip the scales toward all the things we want to avoid.
All our parts work together, body, mind, feelings and soul – this fleshy machine asking us to keep the joints oiled so we can keep moving towards Oz.
I miss Mouse today. I’ve seen his story in such repetitious sadness. I find this self listening to the sirens that warn us against the currents crashing against the rocks. It didn’t have to happen. But it did and now all I can do is honor the grief. It’s pointless to point out what added to his misery. I know I am listening. But here I go again, trying to arch understanding around the schematics in growing older, wiser, and stronger.
Ah, but I’ve run out of time for these words on the page.