Looking backward

The tight feeling in a certain spot on my chest tells me that my asthma protests my careless treatment of my body this week.  Four trial settings: one continuance, two settlements, one set for 9:00 a.m. this morning.  Another  brutal week.  Laundry still not done.  Clutter growing around me.  Fridge still nearly empty despite another stop-gap run to the grocery.

I sit down with my cell phone and scroll through the pictures which I took in California.  I’m nowhere near retirement yet that ocean calls to me.  A longing for some simpler life, perhaps; to live where serene smiles spread across every face as the sun hits the water.  I look back to my twelve days in California with a tinge of sorrow wrapped around a kernel of hope.  Whether my heart cries for something new or something as old as my soul, I cannot say.  I hear the dog talking to the air outside.  I understand the drive behind her cry for something she knows but cannot see or find.

It’s the thirtieth day of the thirty-third month of My Year Without Complaining.    Life continues.

Sunset at Point Montara, California.

Sunset at Point Montara, California.

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