Evening

 Getting older is different than I thought it would be. When I was single, I was so in tune with me. Every day I had time and energy to reflect, to feel what I was feeling and think through what that meant to me. I explored the deepness of my imagination, of my dreams and all the little things that sat on the edge of my mind. Those things were noticed, nurtured even. That time was about me, and I cherished it. 

As I've gotten older things are just different. It's as though I've grown up. And not just in the obvious ways, where I've learned what a mortgage is and how to advance my career, but in that I am less child-like. I spend less time playing, just being. I also have less of an appetite for it. I wonder why. Am I that different? Here I sit, Friday night, tired of tv. My mind is busy, with all the changes happening in my life right now. Changes I've planned for, worked for, hoped and dreamed for. Things I, objectively speaking, want. Things I, subjectively speaking, always wanted. Things that now feel like things I spent my life dreaming of, writing of, hoping for, talking about, feeling peace that I knew what I wanted. Things that are here, now. And I, occasionally, feel scared. That things are moving so fast that I won't savor it the way I'd like. That I will have lived something without living it. But that I don't even know how to live it while living. Or rather, what I really know to be true is that living it means it passes as fast, or faster, than it happens. 

I think it's important that no matter what, I always take time to check-in with me. 

Oh how I've missed this head of mine, always trailing down some deep forest I didn't know was there and never knowing where it goes.