Turning into a seasoned Eisenberger.
It struck me this morning whilst out doing my rounds that I've reached that divine level of life, that level where a comforting routine and knowingness sets in. The seasons are distinct, bold and yet often carbon copies of their former selves.
Another summer is here if not in date than in deeds and it brings along that constant of repeats and routines. A group of flowers that make themselves seen again, a meadow that lets me remember a walk in previous years and a casual encounter along the vineyards. Even the individual rows of vines feel like old aquaintences.
Most of our lives we hurry it along, wish it away or pretend it's something else in the hope of getting to the fictional land of plenty while in the process missing out on Eden under our feet.
What if a life without all those celebrity trimmings is enough, plenty and worth its boring weight in gold? Perhaps age has weakened those blinkers we donned in youth thinking they'll get us over the finishing line of life without succumbing to those distraction and temptations.
Yet those supposed distractions and temptations could be a wink of fate testing our ability to get on with a delightful ordinary life because they are what makes our souls hum in perfect harmony. Often we get the opening bars of a soul-hum whilst on holiday but as it's just an inkling of contentment we couldn't imagine living life along the lines of a holiday.
Many a friend and family had reservations about Bob and my move to such a tiny village with some giving us a few months before heading for the urban hills, but amazingly we were rewarded with a life and lifestyle that is geared toward recognizing that a happy life is being content with what we have, be it mundane, ordinary or at times exciting. Eisenberg rocks!
Biggi
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