Some days are sunny, and some days are cloudy. Some days are warm, some are cold. Others are windy. Some days are meticulously planned, but most are not–they happen whether you get out of bed or not. Some days seem longer than others, and some are fleeting, rushing towards nostalgia. Some days are rough, brutal, and without a cup of tea in sight.
Some days are full of adventure; full of things and deeds, thoughts, and words that only happen in the here and now, never to come again. Others are repetitive, duplicative, cloned, repetitive, repetitive, repetitive–see what I mean?
The only constant, thankfully, is that there will be days. The trick, as I have come to discover, is not to hold out for the best day(s), to wait for perfection. Because life rarely demands (or gives) perfection. Some days, all life requires is participation.
Author’s note: Doodles rock. That is all.