It's never too late, you know.
Maybe you lost your way.
Maybe you overslept, caught in a world that wasn't real.
Maybe you got distracted and started thinking other things were more important.
That your dream could wait.
(It can't wait anymore.)
While you were fucking around, getting lost in the dark, wandering in the forest of apathy and fear and distraction, you let your dream slip from your fingers.
And now, you think, you noticed, it's gone. Gone forever.
It's right where you left it.
Your dream is waiting for you.
Find it. You can.
It's not too late. The sun is still high overhead, illuminating the way.
Find your dream again.
Retrace your steps. Somehow you left your path.
You were lured off it with promises of an easier route, something better, something you didn't even know you wanted.
(You didn't want it, you know now. You never needed it.)
Find your way back. Find your dream.
Pick it up, brush it off. Resolve never to lose it or set it aside again.
It's not too late. It's never too late.
You can still make all of your dreams come true.
It Thursday. And I love:
- Ansley Animal Clinic and the doctors and staff that work there. They are not only incredibly knowledgeable and talented, they are also incredibly professional and kind and caring. Everyone there is so sweet and supportive and understanding. I have cried, like every time I have been there because I want to make sure Harry is going to be okay, and they are just ... cool with it. They don't make me feel bad. They get it. THANK YOU SO MUCH!
- My son. My mouthy, adorable, obnoxious, older-soul-than-me, precious, amazing, brilliant son. Who cuts my hair when I'm not looking, scribbles on the walls, gets into my paints, and tells me, "You're a princess, mama. You're beautiful and I love you."
- Reading the Brothers Karamazov, watching old movies, painting my nails.
- Living in America, a great country. Not without her problems, but I am free to write that, and free to do a myriad of other things that, particularly as a woman, I'd be denied in too many places across the globe. Let's work together to change this. To bring freedom and peace and love to the whole entire world. You may say that I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one...
we stood around and laughed--
and talking about our children
You can wallow for a while; you can cry.
After a while, you'll realize that wallowing has lost its appeal.
If it ever had it, that is.
Sometimes you can't help wallowing.
(And then sometimes, you can't help being happy and content and peaceful, when you weren't even trying.)
I think it takes a certain amount of wallowing before you can get happy again.
Scary, but true.
It happens when you convince yourself you have nothing to lose, and you don't give a fuck anymore.
Because other people do care what others think of them.
But not you.
You see things in crystal clear focus, you know them for what they are. You will notice every beautiful little thing there is and yes, all the horrible ones too.
But you will have the power to just be.
What else can you do, really?