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Spurts. My life runs in them. Fast – slow, sad – happy, well – sick, rich – poor… rarely a modicum of consistency, rarely a sense of one within the other. I’m sure that this is diagnosable, but I’ve yet to seek that out. I would say however, that the older I get, the easier it is to blend them. When I am sad, it is easier to remember that sometimes I am happy. When I am poor, I realize that I’ve been rich. When things move too fast, I remember the moments when time stood still and I begged for speed. It is this blending, that to me, defines my maturity. Without elaboration, I’m pleased to report happiness. When colors fade and darkness comes, I plea that these moments fall not far behind…and not too far ahead.



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