Monday, July 12, 2004

Late Nights...Early Mornings

One of the myths of living, I suppose, is that at each stage of life, we believe rest and peace and ease lie just over the next rise. The great mystery of this is that we tend to recognize only in glancing over our shoulders that the hills behind us were merely plateaus thrusting us higher and higher into the atmosphere - each successive hill higher than the last.

I turn 37 in a short few days, and, while in some ways I am more at peace than I have ever been, I am, too, busier than I have ever been.

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