“You can’t have everything and this can’t be everything.” I said.
We were talking about writing.
But weren’t we also talking about all of it? How to best get from the beginning to the middle to the end?
That’s the thing about options — sometimes, when you have them, it makes things harder. Spoiled for choice is a real thing. When you have no choice, life is much simpler, isn’t it? There is no negotiating to do.
I watch the birds outside my window. They fly, hunt for food, make homes, reproduce. They don’t deliberate career paths or how to retire. I don’t necessarily want to be a bird, but if I were, I wouldn’t know anything different, would I? Sometimes I wonder if people know how many options they really have. Wouldn’t they be more satisfied with life if they’d investigate them? And sometimes I’m keenly aware that those who have already decided are the most satisfied of all.
Recommended listening: Peace Piece, Bill Evans
Sending love everywhere,
AM
Astute observation. Truly, more can be less.
I am so busy with so many choices, to sit down and pick one and then do the things I have no choice but to do, takes up all the time I have to even want to sit down and do the thing. Chicken. Head cut off. That’s me. (But, I did take the time to read this).