My drift through the aging process appears to be away from activity and involvement, and toward observation, reflection, exploration, and playing with my life just to see what it can do, and what I can do with it. I don't have any goals or intentions beyond being present and seeing what happens. Staying home and looking out the windows sounds like a good enough life plan for my remaining years. And seeing what happens. I like that a lot. And, when I go, I expect I will be glad I've been here, and glad to be wherever what's next is. I hope it's a do-over. Endless rounds of life has a positive impact on me. It isn't all drudgery and sorrow, toil and pain. I've gotten better over the course of my life-- in a "I'm more like I am now that I was when I got here!" kind of way. Endless courses of better would be fine with me. Mixing it up with time and chance is a right interesting way of life, with amazement and wonder everywhere. And I'm looking forward to another chance to see what I can do.
One thought on “November 30-A, 2022”
I relate to that. Looking out of windows sounds like heaven to me.
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