This has been a week of last-times and long-agos but mostly I have been facing the fact that I am still fighting the last war.   Changes I thought were soul-searched and hard-bitten are re-runs of strategies that have failed me before.  It unnerves me to realize I am not brave enough to risk a different way.  Not yet, anyway.

But maybe it isn’t so important.  Does it matter so much if I get it wrong, again?  Amidst all my screw-ups – perhaps even due to their epic persistence – I have learned something about love.   My friend said it, and I wrote it down:  You have to connect to good people.  Otherwise it’s just too fucking hard.  That’s something to hold on to.  And the yard is always full of sparkles.