Another year behind me–how many more ahead to lure with the unknown, the undiscovered yet, the could be’s and the maybe’s?
When faced with decades, years, months or even hours, do we plan or do we blindly run the rut right through them to the fork? Planning, yes, but I find all the hiddens and the one great omigosh!, the unthinkable that happens, good or bad, to be the reason still to wander onward to the end. Life is discrete, it’s true, but never thought to be. Life should remain a serialized version of itself, can end at any point, yet be revived with twists to last another episode or so.
Just thought some words of wisdom (or nonsense, they may be) should be forthcoming on the day after.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology