Music. Words. Images. A truth seeking wanderer.
As we get older, we are often reminded of our mortality, our fragility, and the inevitable end of this journey.
As relationships, friends, family members, and memories fade and fall away, we quietly posit and define chapter headings to our story. Every milestone initiates a recapitulation, as we inevitably, and perhaps unexpectedly, check in with ourselves. Are we living our real and true mission? Is this all there is to life? How much time do we have left?
He sat on the bed in the basement bedroom, warming up his fingers across the inclined keyboard on the old accordion. Frustrated with the way…
Today I am missing real connection. As the thought crosses my awareness, I’m astonished to consider that maybe I haven’t really had such a feeling or experience since I was maybe three or four years old.
So, what happened?
I’ve made an awful lot of incorrect assumptions about women in my lifetime.
My cousin is the big sister I needed in this life. We spent a lot of time together in my teens, as she’d lived with us while going to university. I think she also kept me from losing myself in utter loneliness, but she was also one of the only people I didn’t mind being around all the time.
