Stones

Wisdom’s a gift, but you’d trade it for youth. Age is an honor, it’s still not the truth – Vampire Weekend

Fifty looks like a scary number. I’ve been barrelling toward my birthday with all the genuine optimism I can muster.  I know I’m surrounded with so many blessings. I truly feel it.

However, with less than a week to ground zero I’m starting to lose my enthusiasm. Fifty. The word makes me grimace and my eyes well up. It sounds old.

I’m having one of those days where I willingly pile a lifetime of regrets, wasted days, faded loves, squandered opportunities and loss on my chest like heavy stones. I can’t breathe.

So much stupidity. Not enough courage. Days I can’t get back. People I can’t touch.

I will rally. But for this moment I take a certain comfort in laying under the stones. I want to hold on to them, feel their heaviness, and remember every mistake, misstep and careless gesture.

The weight is a summons to live purposefully.  To have more courage.  To find the acceptance to leave the stones on the ground as to not burden what’s left.

Almost fifty.

 

I took the photo at Pedernales State Park, Johnson City, TX.

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