expansion of the lungs and intake of oxygen or exhale of carbon dioxide, it's THE PLACE you choose to breathe.
My choice is the mountain air. Crisp and fleeting, the risk of lightheadedness at twelve thousand feet
takes me back to my childhood. I had a high altitude reunion just this past week and I am
renewed.
The coastal life is suffocating. The easy-going, congenial South is out of step and perfect for some.
For me, I need to be home.
There are challenges, certainly in the planning and executing of living one's dream. For me,
sixty years have not prepared me my for future. I thought I was where I belong. Nope, not even close. As a matter of fact, twelve hundred forty-one miles- plus or minus-north west and definitely above sea level is where my soul remains detached. I feel like Peter Pan's shadow and I can't find the soap.
As eager as I am to discover my purpose-post parenthood and at the threshold of social security-WHERE I discover it, will be the key to unlock my future.
Memories far outnumber my remaining days. The scale is irreversibly tipped in favor of what used to be. I don't mind.
When I close my eyes, I am there. With then wide open and behind any one of a pair of prescription glasses I can't see me staying here.
Spontaneity reaps its own rewards. We'll stay in touch.
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