Keep it simple, someone said to me today.
Good advice. Old. I’ve been struggling with this. I prayed this week, of all things. I prayed that if I don’t possess the bandwidth, the strength, to do it all, please make it clear to me, please help me (make me) trim the fat out of my life. Nothing has become clear to me. I am even mixing my metaphors.
As I write you I’m listening to sports highlights and counting calories and thinking seriously about eating sugar-free Jello. Is this who I am? I know it’s not who I’ve been. I wish I could tell you how much can change in a month. I wish I could tell you how it has happened that, in the last couple weeks, I’ve learned that I will leave the country twice by February. That I may write a book. That I may truly be innocent, fragile, small. Is this who I am? I don’t know. I do know it is a long story, and I’m not sure how to tell it yet.
But I’m still here, reader, still me. Same heart, same hunger.
Be patient with me.