Journal on Trusting Myself

I think any pseudo-confidence I’ve had was based on compulsive readiness.  I was proud of my ability to plan, which is not an inherently bad thing, but it became my entire basis for trusting myself.  And now that I have seen where compulsive planning puts me in life, I realize it’s no way to run a rodeo.

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Journal on Gratitude

I am grateful to be here again today.  I am grateful to be sitting at my desk, which used to be my Dad’s desk, writing about life.  I am grateful to pick a different color pen every day.

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Journal on Sharing

My fear of disrupting the flow or not being able to maintain my harmony with it keeps me from jumping in, which means I never do. There is no perfect or perfectly timed way to begin this harmonizing. It has to be done by experience, by feel.

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Joy = Perfection

Perfection is not limited by precision or conformity to some standard or preconceived definition. If you try to make a perfect circle or sing a perfectly uniform tone or have perfect skin, you will fail. Perfection is not how you perform or how smoothly things run or how accurately you can measure things. Perfection is the joy you feel. For whatever reason. Joy, joy, joy!

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1991

I did it to myself
Buried evidence in my flesh
Sang no more, denying music
At least a decade of numb decay
Spent dying of security

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Quietly Wild

Behind me wreckage lies
Before me cinders fly

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