I was supposed to draft this last week but other writing and contemplation took precedence.
Both have moved forward and on my walk today I suddenly knew what to write.
So I sat outside a neighborhood taproom and this came forth. It’s about 70 with a light breeze.
There is no past me and no present me.
There are all versions of me trying to figure out how to live in this single form. At this moment.
Some days there is harmony. Some days there is discord. Some days there is dissonance.
On other days, all three.
As I read the writings from the past decade+ some feel like today and others are from a different time. And yet they all emanate from this being.
My Daddy said that as I aged time would move faster. He was right in some ways.
But I also think about time differently now. It is not linear, not sure it ever was. It is fluid - circling, stopping, slowing, repeating, speeding and at times it feels in parallel to itself.
Efforts to control it feel futile to me.
So as Spring unfolds, I embrace all versions of me with greater care and welcome others to join in doing similar for themselves.