Who am I? What am I doing with my life? Am I happy? Should I be doing more? Am I making a difference? What can I be doing better? What are my goals? Am I the driver in my life or am I just along for the ride? How are my priorities? Is it even possible to have it all and sleep every night? Am I neglecting anything? Where can I improve?
Somewhere deep in this storm of questions, a barrage of general check-points that summarily categorize Life as I Know It--sometime between this morning's coffee, pages 43 and 44 of Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie, my six games of electronic Sudoku, the handfuls of peanut M&Ms that I snarfed down amid my decision that stated no-I'm-absolutely-not-going-to-exercise- today, the folding of darks in the laundry room, and in between bites of our breast-of-turkey dinner this evening, clarity came.
It's not in the broad decisions that I make about my life on this day each year, it's in the decisions I make every hour of every day that define my progress.
In fact, it's the everyday decisions that equal a life. And generally, I've decided to reassure myself, I'm doing just fine.
Clarity is a beautiful thing. For in it, there is peace.
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