I have written less frequently this past year - interesting to think that when I've had time to write, I've not cared to write. I filter my words more cautiously, and perhaps that comes with the knowledge that I don't need to be heard; I have no pressing need to move anyone or anything into words.
Lately I've done a lot of living, not much existing, a lot of figuring things out - things like life, living in the present, aging, and moving forward. Perhaps the best way of putting these past several months is that I'm busy loving putting myself together, after years of feeling disjointed, uncomfortable, and in many ways, lost.
At 66, I miraculously fit into myself. I've always flattered myself on living my truth, on being intentional and authentic, yet these days not having to hide behind a title, an employer, or a culturally defined role; I'm less burdened. I've been able to shine, if only to myself.
And with that said, happy lucky 13 to me, to you, to those who've journeyed with me.
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| Family Sept. 2025 |
