Return, Return, Reset, Repeat

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know what happened.  I know what happened.  I got slightly more ambitious and lost steam for the inch-ing along type micro-progression I’d been enjoying.  I abandoned the loveliness of a non-dramatic daily trudge for the idea of a big New Initiative.  

I said buh-bye to the slow blooming, unfolding, foot-off-accelerator-style letting life be as good as it can be, as good as it is and said hello to that seductive old habit of pushing it to be different.  An attempt to make it better resulting, as usual, in making things worse.  And so.

So what happened was, I added something to my seemingly sturdy routine, and a key part of that good old routine, this blog, fell away.  Oops.  And now it’s time to return to center.  Walk the walk.  Be with the is-ness of what I can handle, comfortably, at this time, being me, here, now, this life, living it, as I am.

It’s like, there’s this older guy who lives near us who goes to the beach and makes these magnificent beach sculptures from sand and rock and found seaweed and like that.  And he does them and leaves them there to be enjoyed and destroyed.

I don’t think he’s needing to photograph and publish, or get a big name influencer to promote him, or license his sculptures to Hasbro, or be featured in ArtNews or whatever, or maybe he is, but it seems like it’s the creating them he’s in it for.  That’s what it looks like to me anyway.  

And the people who see it get to enjoy it and maybe share it and the people who don’t don’t.  That’s enough. It’s plenty.

Help people, try to have a nice time.  That’s the gig that keeps me sane, keeps me grateful, gives me a shot at enjoying what there is to be enjoyed, helps me be of maximum service to myself, to my family, and to others.  It’s a good deal.  I’m taking it.  I’m gonna keep going. 

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