imageYesterday I stated that my blog isn’t about the past. I realized as I re-read the line that that’s inaccurate. I write about the past a lot, in point of fact.

What I meant, but failed to express clearly, was that this blog isn’t about rehashing shit, pointing fingers, or extolling the imagined virtues of a bygone day. Rather it’s meant to be a beacon of encouragement, one I endeavour to shine so I can see in the dark.

When I write of my past, those experiences from another time, it is as a storyteller, as a writer giving context and a pinch of flavour to a tale. Or, it might be so that I can figure something out like why I behave a certain way, for example. But I want to make something clear; I do not live there. To do that would cheapen the gift of life. I am alive, breathing, apt, and able. Living fully now means to be creating my past in this moment, not paying homage to a time that is gone.

I also want to let you know that I seldom re-read the blogs I write, or watch the vlogs. True to the nature of a quick, end of day reporting not unlike a journal entry, I write, edit once, and post. On the rare occasion that my gut calls me to reread, I do so, of course. This, however is the first time I have commented on one. I fear if I looked at them closely, I’d have a lot of ‘splainin’ to do.

My wish tonight is for perseverance. Just show up. I mean what can happen? Nothing at all if you don’t put in an appearance. As a friend reminded me recently, carpe diem.

And with that, I’ll toddle off to temporarily walk the hills of Devon, in my imagination. I do love period movies.

So it is far from the madding crowds I’ll be till tomorrow…


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