Time

Well, it's my birthday today and being 57 is really just fine. My coworkers and I have just about completed "intensive" dialectical behavior training and will be able to go home tomorrow. It's been a fantastic training experience, we've put a lot into this in the last six months, and are ready to move forward with our program when we get back into action.

Went Cajun for the birthday feast and am sitting here absolutely grinning with delight. Just right. Have you ever just walked into a book store without an outward inkling of what you might need to read -- and leave with the perfect tome of wisdom in your hands? Last night it happened to me again and I wonder if it isn't just divine power that makes it so. You know, being almost 60 is very weird in a sense. It's not like we go around our little lives planning on Time to catch up with us. So when I picked up Sue Monk Kidd's "Traveling with Pomegranates" it was intially with some curiousity and admiration for some earlier stuff by her (particularly, "The Dance of the Dissident Daughter"). I bought it, read a few chapters last night and, by golly, it spoke to me. Growing older, my daughters taking the place where I used to reign, finding another place, looking inward at the older, wiser woman I have become. "Old Woman I meet you deep inside myself. There in the rootbed of fertility. World without end, as the legend tells it. Under the words you are my silence." May Sarton as quoted by Sue Monk Kidd.