A Writer's Journal

Through The Glass Darkly

January 3, 2021

Plan b

Photo by Antonio Quagliata on Pexels.com

How did I get here. I don’t even like to think about it really. I just did. I didn’t have the luxury of plan A, and I refuse to get sucked into the abyss of self reflective malaise. I am here, and every once in a while I’m okay with that. I sit at my back window and feed my squirrels peanuts, I write poems, I go on walks and have conversations with my neighbors, I go to the gym, I meditate and practice yoga, or think about doing it, and at least twice a day I sit and make myself remember it’s okay. I’m thankful for all that. I am thankful for conversations with my cat, the squirrel that scratches at my back door for peanuts and to remind me to fill the bird/squirrel feeder and all the little things that have nothing to do with politics or how fat I’m getting or whatever I should have done or said differently.

Plan b is ok.

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