There are the embers of a fire that glows a bit fainter from the last glow. The clouds roll in on a whim outside. The night marches on. There is the promise of rain, but it won’t be held. The miles roll by, the days flip one at a time on the calendar. It is a battle of wits with the world that insists on who you exactly are.

I am most surprised by the framing of myself. I am surprised by my compromises. I am surprised by the ease with which I choose my compromises. I am surprised by how well I sit with the compromise, once I have made it. It this what they call wisdom, or is it just the tyranny of middle-age?

The world and the life that is being lived is dramatically different from what was there 5-years-ago. So much of the past two-decades have been about finding my place in the world and who I really was. In the end, the answers that settled me down were that my place is where I am at that time and I am what I am now.

Never mind.