I’m reflecting on a post in the early 800s. This one was about a life well lived. I can’t say I really understood a life well lived or a life well loved back then. I was on my first marriage and quoting Kobe Bryant. This is before I really dove deep into the writing, before I lost friends, before I had kids graduate and understood what that felt like.
Three graduations, one wife, and 7 iterations later I find that I am once again an insular man. That can be proven as I sit here at a banquet on my phone and truly lacking the interest in talking to anyone I don’t already know. I want to meet interesting people elsewhere and where it isn’t about what our kids do or the nonsensical lifestyles of Arizona. I want to go elsewhere and do more and think about a life that means more. Am I happy? Yeah. Really really am.
am I happy here? In my own way as I float on the edge watching as if from far away. I’m not a part of here but I am a part of my kids lives and lives. My own life is elsewhere and I am happy to be truly living it.