I like organizing my thoughts into little folders, a sort of mental filing cabinet. Rational versus irrational. Thoughts that are constructive versus ok to toss away. I value order and strive to make sense out of feelings and happenings. Sometimes these habits drive me to feel vulnerable about finding answers. A clear cut mandate to dictate what choices to make, what path to choose and what makes me tick. I am, as of this point in time, unable to find any concrete response to this line of questioning. I don't align my entire being with any one thing. I live for moments instead.
Rain. Preferable warm rain, and some sunshine. The gallop of an excited pet. The dog pummeling down the steps and through the kitchen, slipping and sliding into the door or cabinet. Reagan greeting me at the door. Sleeping near me when I don't feel well.
The smell of coffee brewing in the morning. Better yet, bacon frying. And biscuits. Or if you are from Northern New Jersey, some doughy bagels and Taylor ham.
Joyful accomplishment over a completed task, no matter how trivial. Freshly folded laundry. Long talks on the phone. Pajamas. Chocolate chip pancakes for dinner (while wearing those pajamas).
Fatigue after a long workout. Aching muscles that scream progress. Grocery shopping on Sunday mornings. Preparing a meal and sharing it with someone whose company you crave. Or eating alone with a good book as your companion.
Weekend naps. That pang of indulgence when you shut your eyes as the sun continues to shine through your window. Being understood. Listened to. Appreciated.
The only thing I can imagine doing all day every day, is navigating the ebbs and flows. A step forward, and a step backward. Learning. Communicating. Overcoming. I don't know what I am doing or where I am going. But I will embrace it and endeavor every step of the way to make sense of this life. To make it meaningful. Love others and cherish their love in return.
And eat cake. I will eat lots of cake.