My heart is featherlight. My mind is full. I know this feeling. I have felt it before. It’s a good feeling, a feeling of happiness, perhaps joy, a fleeting feeling, but a feeling that grabs your focus and sets you down in a quiet spot, a place where that special feeling can wash over you, raise you up, heal you, if you will take the time to let it.
And I will.
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Fasting may be the least appropriately named thing in existence. There is nothing, I say nothing, fast ... about fasting. To awaken at 5 AM and know that your first meal will be around 3 PM ... if you're looking for a way to slow down time ... that's it.
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Holy cow! Holy cow!
My brain is speeding right now, fuel injected, turbo boosted. I'm firing on all cylinders. So many thoughts are zooming through my mind, that I had to stop for a while just to capture a few. I've spent all morning and part of the afternoon looking through, culling, and editing my photos from the past few days with my rented lens, the Nikon 200-500 mm.
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This is just a rant. If you read this, you may feel compelled to offer me advice. Please don’t.
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Could it be long-lingering guilt?
Recently, on my neighborhood walk, I noticed an odd behavior of mine that started decades ago, and apparently still occasionally happens. I was walking along a side-walked four-lane road and came upon another road with an attractive older woman sitting in her car, waiting to pull out onto the four-lane.
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