Some Days…

Some days, most actually, when I finally stop the constant motion both in body and mind in living my life, I feel a sense of collapse and wonderment that 12 – 16 hours has elapsed and there has been no break.

Owning and running my own company, single parenting 3 very different daughters, nudging as best I can the workings of my beloved 100 year old house, managing and enjoying business and personal relationships, dealing with any and all contingencies, adapting to the new dynamic since the death of Lily last month, not to mention recent chronic snow shoveling, keeps me on the treadmill of life.
But sometimes, when it’s all quiet about me, I look over onto my magnetized inspiration board [stay tuned for a future post on that], and see the triangulated ceramic tchotchke [you can’t see the silly feet that are attached to the bottom of what by all accounts seems to me to be a Christmas Tree] that reads in an all lower case cursive:

And then I do. And whether it’s a moment, an hour or a whole day, I can get back on the treadmill and do it all over again.

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