There is nothing so strong or safe in an emergency of life as the simple truth.
It’s almost the end of January and I am still having trouble adjusting to 2018. I’ve had to go back and correct the year on the majority of entries here this month. Days, sometimes a week, goes by and I notice that I’ve started doing it again so back I go into the WordPress inner workings again to fix the years.
It’s been an off month. Maybe that’s part of it.
I’m enjoying the relatively warm weather and the green grass that’s appearing as the snow dissipates. My entire front flower bed is now snow-less. I’m expecting to see crocuses in a few weeks. The gardening bug hasn’t taken hold just yet. That’s weird.
I’ve been obsessed with over thinking. I know. That sounds strange. I’ve been wrestling with truths and mulling them over and digging deeper. I’ve been looking things up; I’ve been writing and rewriting in order to sort through the chaff and get to the simple core of it.
The other day as I was relaxing in a bath by candlelight, listening to music and thinking—still thinking—I suddenly understood in simple terms what it was I had been trying to puzzle out. The next day I started over thinking that thing and the entire cycle started again.
My mind is tired. Something’s gotta give.