monday 10.07

The year of my knowing something serious, not how or what, but something completely odd was taking place in my body is reaching three hundred and sixty-five days and although I am not awaiting the year date, I am subconsciously aware that the date is coming. I have been asked often what I was doing a year ago and I have to say that what I was doing and what I was thinking are completely different from what I thought I would be doing and thinking as I sit here today and write my thoughts.

I started to get healthy for my own self preservation, knowing that I was staring forty down the barrel of a loaded gun, was raising a pup and still mentored for the disabled, dabbled in art and writing and reading and like today, dabbled in people. I was free and a spirit, but certainly not the free spirit I see in the mirror today. Those that have stuck next to me and followed me on this journey are probably best to comment on what they have seen but I know a metamorphosis started and continues to this day.

As I sit here, I remain terminal but live life like there is no tomorrow, deny myself less, am more conscious of thought and the actions associated with the thought and strive for more days knowing I do not have the hundreds or thousand I once thought about, but the time I do have worth more and the giving continues. I pay attention to my body no less than I did, however; today I act on what I envision instead of it being a pipe dream from afar.

My aroma is therapy, my words and pictures solace and peace and my life nearing a point of me feeling complete and with this, I rejuvenate for another day. And even when I feel real bad and am afraid or unable to walk a straight line from the pain that reminds me not to think to far into the future, I can say with conviction and complete truth I would not change a thing. And this and to all I am grateful for becomes a continuous thought that raises a brown brow and puts a deep wrinkles smile, everlasting, upon my person. Inward and outward and onward.