Make a list, check.
Life has been a string of checklists lately (always). Move back to Virginia, check. Create another online course, check. Plants seeds for this year's garden, check. Walk and cuddle Ramona, check. Turn 40, check. Celebrate in NYC, check. Go to the MOMA, check. Blog more, create a new line of work, learn final cut pro, meet Patti Smith, make pottery, paint my studio, ummmm.... so, I have a lot of things not checked off just yet...
Lots of great things about to happen...
my mind is as clear as water - so peaceful, nothing troubles me. such is the state of leaving the self and all things behind. i pour myself a cup of tea and drink; it is sweet indeed. - Korean Tea Poem
The peach blossoms came and went too quickly, as they usually do, but oh how lovely they were.
On Turning 37
by Kareem Tayyar
Today you remind yourself that although Buddy Holly was 17
When he first sang “Peggy Sue”,
And that Fitzgerald was 24 when he published This Side of Paradise,
And that Dylan was only 21 when he composed
“Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands”
In the studio while the other musicians shot pool and played cards,
Whitman was 37 when he wrote “Song of Myself”,
Rousseau was 40 when he first picked up a paintbrush in his Paris apartment
And began creating those indelible images of the African jungles
That were largely responsible for the birth of Modern Art,
And even J.F.K,
He of that perpetual youth and beauty that signaled a departure from
The grandfather-politics of men like Eisenhower and Truman,
Was 43 when he took the oath of office for the Presidency.
In other words,
Go back to sleep, buddy.
There is still plenty of time to climb the mountain,
And there is no reason to think that your best days are already behind you.