When I lived in New York City, I would carry a pen and pad with me wherever I went. I would often sit outside coffee shops, listen to my tunes, ponder, seek answers and take notes.
I wrote the following during one of those moments:
“In my failure to find answers,
I sometimes find reason.
In my attempts to understand reason,
I often discover purpose.” – 1/16/97
21 years ago, purpose was plenty.
Maybe it still is.
Although I may want all of the answers, purpose is all I really need.
339 blog posts down – only 26 more to go…