I don’t feel it, yet I am. 52 years old.

Where did the time go? I ask myself. Sometimes. Most times, though, the real question I’m curious about is, What is ahead of me?

The stickler is, not what are my future plans, but what are my here and now plans. The living in the moment moments. And now, right now, this is a moment. Me. Writing. Talking to myself. And to anyone who wants to hear, or read, what I have to say.

Life is what I make it. It’s up to me.

I try not to look back, unless there is a lesson embedded back there, a lesson I can use at this moment. Right now.

I am 52 today.

It is what it is. A number. A number that belongs to me. Describes me. But isn’t who I am.

I am a person.

Someone full of wisdom. Careful thoughts. Patience. And deep-rooted happiness.

At this moment, this very moment, I contemplate how I fit into the natural world, rather than how nature fits into my world.

Why am I here? What is my purpose?