Some times people look at me and wonder where it is that I am. That is, they see my body occupying a space but they recognize that my mind is elsewhere. It has been this way for as long as I can remember and I suspect it always will be.
Endless hours are spent in the present living out the days and enjoying the fruits of my labor and effort. Countless minutes spent in the here and now because that is how life is meant to be lived and I would not want to live in a world where it was otherwise.
Still, there are those moments that you will find me elsewhere. Those times where you see me and know that my mind is elsewhere. During those you will find me walking in the gardens of memory engaged in reflection of moments to cherish and moments to treasure.
Some of those moments are things that I have seen or done with my children and others are of a different nature. Time spent in a secret world in a place that only one other has seen. Occasionally I will open the gates and enter the land and wander where I will.
That place is a wonderland of experience filled with moments that make my heart soar and my spirit rise. But like all rose gardens it does have the occasional thorn. There are the moments and memories of less pleasant experiences. There are things in there that some would designate of a darker nature. And there was a time when I would have wanted to banish them from my sight and from time. Erased from memory they would never trouble my soul with unrest.
But that would not be fair or real. The mistakes and missteps help to illuminate and illustrate the beauty of those other moments. They call out to me as little beacons of light that help remind me why the truly special moments are more deserving of my attention. They have no more power than I choose to give them.
So they stay in the secret world, memory buoys of what was and a guide towards what I hope will be. Moments to cherish, moments to treasure.
"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." — Groucho Marx
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