March 12
I reckon it’s likely a function of age, of arriving at a certain point in the trajectory when you do some accounting & take the measure of the currents running around you, the loose ends you’ve ignored, the errant sinuous goals & projects left undone, the gravid light of newer dreams just beginning to blossom. & so I weigh these things against each other, let my grip loosen around some, clutch others the tighter for it, let the entire thing shift how it wants to, how I want it to. & lately, the object is to open a space wherein my actual desires can take root & flourish, where I can cultivate them & work towards them in tangible ways, make them my goals, & adhere to the plans that will bring those goals to fruition. All to say those goals seem to be solidifying these days, around a few specific things, or persons, or dogs. It’s odd, my enthusiasm for life has worn a curious garb these many years. It seems to me I’ve used certain goals to justify the absence