i don’t know what’s happened to me. maybe it’s from starting in on the kitchen — scrubbing the burners to a bright burnish. maybe it’s the walk in the park today, taking pictures and feeling no constraint of time or view. maybe it’s the Stephen King book i’m reading (you never know).
but feels like part of me is back. not sure how or why. like something shook loose in ol’ noggin and reset the controls back to before the impact of this last winter. maybe i said good-bye to jazz by packing the little memorial-statue i have of my cat. i don’t know.
maybe it’s because i stepped in on a few issues this week, like i used-to. remembered who i am. it might not be somebody everybody loves, but so what? i would rather have my mind, speak my mind. have to stand up for yourself in this world, find your voice.
so while i’m not sure what happened, i do keep this part of myself that gives thanks for small favors. you never know what’s around the corner. sometimes it’s yourself.