I am watching the baby turkeys stumble over the brush pile. The air is thick; heavy, buzzing with cicadas. A flying bug keeps banging its head on the window.
I do that.
This morning I opened Mom's meditation book to this:
Any path is only a path, and there is no affront, to oneself or others, in dropping it if that is what your heart tells you.
~ Carlos Castaneda
Thought: release yourself