Been a long, been a long, been a long time...

Looking for the eye of my hurricane.  That place where I can see the swirling of people and things in my life as they frantically fly in front of me, but not be blown back or away.

Why should this effort bring tears to my eyes?  Am I grieving?  If so, what am I grieving?  Or is it relief?

Telling one's story is important.  To paraphrase something I read from someone, somewhere, "If you can share your story and not have tears, you know that healing has happened."

Don't know if that's the case here, but it came to my mind, so I'm sharing it.

Holidays are hard.  Expectations, which are almost always and usually draining and disappointing, pile up like the snow waiting to be cleared away.  Or for spring to melt it away.  Or a snowplow.  Ow.

That's all for now, just felt inspired to write again.

David