Do you ever have the feeling that the more you think about something the less you know? I brood and plan and add up the pros and cons and end up back where I started. Confused. And stuck. Immobile. For the past year I have felt a pressing need to figure out what the hell I'm doing with my life. And I always word it like that. "Em, what the fuck are you going to do!" And I'm not even sure what I mean but I worry about the answer. I obsess over it. I am wearing a hole in the floor by running in place! And so I have started to ask my mind to please be quiet. On this subject. It can be as loud as it wants about a host of other topics but I don't need to hear myself arguing back and forth on the life issue. I want to give my heart a chance to speak. And for fate to work its subtle ways. And so I have cleared the deck. I am single, I am weightless, and I am simply watching what comes up. Yesterday I ran a series of errands on the cargo bike with Bello riding shotgun. He is heavy and the bike no longer shifts gears so we took a flatter and therefore different route. And there it was. The house. And my heart screamed YES! And my head jumped into the fray with a "But you don't know if you want to live here and remember..." but I cut it off. What was that you were saying heart? Was that a motherfucking yes? Just checking. It's really pretty simple.

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