I feel like I've been sleeping my whole life and am only just now being called to "wake up, wake up, this is your life, what you do makes a difference". I used to say that about my middle schoolers, why it was that they were at that "ripe moment of desperation" where true change was possible. I hope real change is still possible for me too.
I've noticed that I have a body, and that it's mine and that it's not in very good shape for the home stretch. How to take care of it? Why to take care of it? Do I really want to live? I have so little sense of what I (which one? the farmer, caretaker, poet, house designer?) want, in contrast to unconsciously gravitate toward (chocolate, giving away too much, imagining and then {exhaustion} trying to actually do it).
An old refrain, "WHO are you? WHY are you? WHAT do you WANT?" is playing on the radio in the back room of my mind. I don't know. And I'm not sure how to find out, except to have patience with my patience. I am still newly born to this single life where everything is newly experienced. Newly, the same old with a different perspective.
This I know
I want to want to wake up; I'm willing to risk discomfort and put in effort to wake up.
I don't want to waste this ephemeral act of breathing.
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