choosing and doing and going

Every day I wake up thinking about homelessness, and when it's cold outside, it actually hurts. I'll slip outside in the cold air and I'll wonder about the souls who are also just waking up from their hard cold places and how differently they rise to wake the dawn.

As I am preparing to leave on vacation, madly tying up loose ends and most certainly forgetting something I am conscious still of the luxury of vacation, of the money frittered away on holidays and the casualness by which I am able to live my life by the merest and grandest factor of all: choice.

I recognize my blessings every day and on good days I use them in service of others. In bad days I might wallow through my own stumbling blocks and obstacles, perceived and real alike. I'd like to think it's the sum rather than my parts that matter in the end but regardless I wonder about the wasted time.

I know we'll see poverty of grand proportions on our travels. We somehow always choose places ridden with suffering, perhaps a rude or at least perplexing fascination worthy of one or two psychotherapy sessions or at least a fierce group hug. And yet with all of it I stand content in my reality, regretting none of the choices that have carved my world view and yet mindful at the same time of a long lost shine.

I'll be travelling for a bit and as such will be missing the lead up to the Just Post Roundtable this month so the indomitable and lovely Mad will be rounding up our links. So make sure to send them to her at madhattermommy at hotmail dot com. If this is new to you visit one of the purple and white buttons to your right. Oh and think of me once or twice as I frolic through the surf realizing a rest I want to deserve that some will never reach.