Grow From Churning … At Least I Hope So …

Sitting outside Starbucks I watch traffic go by … I’m a spectator watching the world unfold in an infinite number of ways, each moment creating a new chapter for an infinite number of stories … many times a person just like me. And while I watch, I churn … I roll and tumble within myself from a mix of unknown causes … causes creating my own internal set of stories.

My internal stories seem as mixed as those I watch travel by. Some sit like pictures from some spiritual setting, immersed in peace and calm. Some flame with emotion and feelings, framed more as some passion filled script to a stage play. It is a complex palette, for I am a complex man.

Varied as they are, none of my stories produce fears. All produce “warm” feelings. All seem part of who I am and who I’m becoming. But they also seem incongruous … too unique to be part of a whole. But maybe not … maybe the sense of incongruence comes from applying old, external scripts as the bench marks. Old definitions of what “should be”. The time to once more shed the old and allow some new, yet to be defined definition emerge is upon me.

At least that’s how it seems ….

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