It's the end of 2021 and the usual thing to do is to write some sort of summary of the year that is set to come to a close. I don't really want to do that, but I'm feeling called to write something at the moment.
There is a lot going on in my head right now, and I'm not entirely sure how to process it all. That's not entirely true. I feel a poem churning in my soul. Here it is:
How many decisions do we make in a year?
Hundreds of thousands? Millions? More?
So many on autopilot - with little thought behind them.
Many made to temporarily fill a void, ease a discomfort -
so many miss the root.
Love
or (more likely)
a fear of love
or
a lack of love
at the root of what ails me. Probably us.
Set an intention to let love drive more decisions.
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