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I think a lot about practicing who I want to become.

You can see it on elderly faces… the deeply etched lines of complaining or gratitude.  The naturally formed smile, practiced over decades of a life.  But it’s not only smiling or frowning, complaining or giving thanks.  It’s also simple habits like noticing, savoring, engaging.  I want to be the kind of old lady who still prays with people in the grocery store, and watches as the sunset finishes it’s crescendo and fades gently back into the hues of silence.  I want to bless my God now, in the miniscule details, so that if, and when, my life is in a different season, and my body aches a little more than it does now, or swells with loss and frustration, I will naturally default to praise.

I can gaze backwards in life, and see how habits I formed in my 20’s have carried me into my 40’s.  I can also see the lingering residue of unfortunate choices I made.  Every choice is a movement on a trajectory.

So, I ponder these things, when I am tempted to feed the impulse of busyness and distraction, when I am tempted to rush past something (or someone) beautiful.  When I am tempted to gripe and grumble, or loose my patience.  Or expect too much from those I love, ignoring all that is worthy of praise within them.

My character is marinading with age, and it is up to my present-day-self whether it’s marinade is sweet or sour.

Space 6/9/22


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