Sort of the Oprahfication of the spiritual, this, but the reality is, I don't want to think and labor and panic over it anymore. I want to walk through my house like I'm walking through a field or the surf falling on the sand. Serene, and oblivious, and with other places to turn my attention.
Happy Sunday. I'm off to attempt the poaching of eggs for an anniversary (not ours) brunch.
Until tomorrow.
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