Monday, August 22, 2011

this morning

It's how I can't believe that my father is actually pulverized dust in a plastic bag, wrapped in 2 other plastic bags, sitting in a cheap urn I bought at a garage sale 16 years ago.

It's discussing with my therapist that I should re-imagine positive outcomes because I've got a mind set to believe in low expectations or none. And how we talked about my passion for photography and she suggested I take a course to get back into it. The first thing I thought about was putting up a show of the photos of my dying and dead father. It's the closest I'd ever been to a corpse. It was beautiful and strange and I wanted to giggle and scream at the same time.

It's how it's a new day and I don't have to do again what I did yesterday. Or the day before.

It's struggling to understand the best way to "turn it over" to my Higher Power, while also being in the driver seat of my destiny. Co-pilot and map-maker I suppose.

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