I often wish I could grow beyond just writing about myself, but I am learning. I suppose this makes you my guinea pigs while I learn this craft. My bride washed the bed linens this morning. Hanging them on the clothesline, under the canopy of sycamore and pecan trees. It’s usually quiet today, even for Alamo. But my aching head appreciates the silence.
I’m blessed that my life isn’t overly complicated, at least not anymore. After all is was the demands of my former life that started my downward spiral. I read how so many people are desperately trying to find peace and balance in their lives, but find it so difficult to obtain. That I can totally understand. Hell, it took me damn near dying to figure it out.
All I know is, find yourself a quiet place. Make moments in the day where you can clear your head and listen. Feel the cool breeze as it blows, hear the sound of rustling leaves. Notice the melody of the songbirds and smell fresh linens drying on the line. Still none of these things will bring you peace unless you first start listening to yourself.