I'm thinking I've spent a while investing time where I shouldn't be. That I've been missing some of the best of life because I've been so narrowly focused on things that probably don't matter.
I'd like to say I'm going to change that, but I don't know if I will.
This is my admission, instead, that I don't have everything all figured out. That I'm not as put together as I may pretend to be. That I know I might not be doing it all right all of the time, so there's no need to remind me.
It's a lovely day and I don't want to be outside. I have friends who want to see me but I'd rather stay home.
I'm not writing as much as I should. As much as I want to. As much as necessary to be healthy. I think part of us dies when we lose our art. I certainly haven't seen mine in a while.
I'm interested in being fully alive.