I had my first face-to-face bear experience last week in the wee hours of the morning when I was awakened by the cow bell on our bird feeder.
I signed up for immersion training in septuagenarian life taught by a thirty-year-old with a master’s degree in arch supports.
Pete is inconsistent with my need for order. Order as I define it. My kind of order. The order that centers on me. I have regrets about Pete.
Pete says chasing squirrels and work are the same thing. I agree. Often when I’m working, I feel like I’m chasing something I can’t catch.
I’m taking happy lessons from my dog, Pete, because he knows how to be happy. My guru. When the student is ready the master appears.
My mirage was the magical thinking that got me through two years of pandemic disruption. Then poof, it was gone. This is my vibe shift.
When I lived on a farm, for so much as the bleat of a goat I could backburner the alphabet for months. My natural state is unplugged.