The burden that comes from putting one mud-heavy foot in front of the other day after day grows troublesome.

I should make a list, I think. Spend time ruminating on simple happy things.

Or maybe there’s a better way.

Be still. Listen.

Words, overused, have lost something of their meaning.

Try another: Divine.

An old-fashioned stringing together of letters.

Copy. Replace.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things.

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