I can't remember exactly when I landed on this idea, but it happened.

Before waking up to it I felt stuck in the notion that this all has to mean something. That our time should be laser focused on distilling whatever that is down to a pinpoint of dutiful and intentional purpose. What an exhausting thread to pull. The constant unraveling felt like a total mind mess.

The problem with this particular agenda was that it implied I wanted to be special, to stand out, to be noticed. I can admit to this and something tells me I'm not alone...

So, if we are all just waves on the same ocean, constantly crashing into each other before we make landfall and then disappear forever, where is the connective tissue? In this mindset their wasn't any. But, if we can admit that it feels scary and a little insane for a life to come and go mostly quietly, then we are more the same than not. Some of us just land louder, for better or for worse.

The truth is there's a hole in every bucket and eventually the water will just drain out. Accepting this is the radical key. It unlocks the elegance of striving to live with a quieter dignity. Of simply showing up if we're needed, and sensing when it's right to leave. It isn't about not trying, it's about not forcing.

The bucket will be empty soon enough. Spending time trying to fix that seems wasteful. I'm more focused on all the cool water I get to drink along the way.

Love, Caro