My grandmother introduced me to ‘Days of Our Lives‘ at a formative time of my childhood, and ever since getting hooked on the NBC soap operas of the 80’s, a penchant for drama has proved a mainstay of my adult life, much to the chagrin of my preferred internal baseline of calm and peace. I am my own worst enemy – I’m well aware. Whenever I see a sky like this, at the dangerous turn of fall – when weather threatens to overwhelm and fluctuate in roller-coaster form – I thrill a bit, glad for the sort of drama that doesn’t directly involve my own emotions and personal predicaments.
Drama tends to surround me even when I’m not part of it, and the universe has seen to it that not all of my demons have been entirely exorcised. Still much work to be done, probably until the day I die, and realizing that comes with its own sort of peace. The heart and mind work in mysterious tandem; everything unfolds as it’s meant to unfold. Be that stone at the bottom of the river, allowing the water to rush past, ebbing and flowing with time and season, while there is stillness and calm within.
