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What I Believe

Recently, I've been having trouble sleeping. Stressed out about this or that I've lost touch with what's really important. Part of it is my own doing. Distracted by things that don't really matter it's easy to get a little lost.

Fast forward a couple of days spent in relaxing Lanesboro, a small town in southeastern Minnesota where my wife is rehearsing for a play. She's lucky enough to stay in a B & B as the sole occupant. There's a river gurgling a stone's throw from the back yard and light spilling in through the windows. Spring flowers emerge from the ground like hope rekindled. I'm rested. Relaxed. I have a growing peace of mind knowing what matters to me. Really matters. My beautiful wife of whom I am so proud, my sister, good friends, nieces and nephews. The list of loved ones goes on and on. We are connected.

My job is a good one, surrounded by people who are kind are supportive. It is good, rewarding work.

And I have my creative life. By this summer I will have the second draft of my novel done.

All in all it is a good life. I am lucky. Days aren't always easy, and it is sometimes hard to avoid pitfalls, to say no to weakness and bad habits, but I am learning. Perfection is an illusion. Joy has no expectations, and makes no demands. There is a space in each of us, I believe, a quiet center where our lives can breathe deeply in unhurried rhythms.

I am listening.

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