Porch light

How do you know when you’ve made it?
What a silly question.
You know the answer to that.
Part of it is that you’ve never really. Made it...
You’re always moving in a direction, the direction...
But the contentedness that slips in sometimes,
engulfs you, blankets you...
That’s “making it,” too.
But that one’s funny because it’s not somewhere you can arrive at.

You can climb the mountain or spend the day on the water or bask in the sunshine for hours, and not feel it in your heart. You can search for it, and lots of times it won’t be there.
And then sometimes you can be in a coffee shop or a train station or in a cluttered room with too much to do and not enough time and realize it’s there, too. Right next to you, helping you calm the sea so that you can pluck out the words. Or around you, covering you with one of those gravity blanket things that calm you down and quiet your mind.
(Lots of times, I catch glimpses of it in smells and sounds. Two of my favorite ways of drinking everything in.)

You can only do your part to make it welcome, and it will come,
When it’s truly meant to.

So - peace, tranquility, contentment...
You are always welcome.
In case you didn’t know.