Where your every move matters

28739933685_0affd751df_oSo I’m browsing through my street photography photos from the many times spent Traveling at the Speed of Bike, and I keep going back to this one.

Maybe because it’s almost Life Pie Weekend (every Labor Day Weekend, when I re-evaluate each year how I am planning to spend my nonrenewable resource of 168 hours each week for the coming year) and I know I am being under-utilized.

Maybe because I still have my friend Bob on the brain after our community just celebrated the 10-year anniversary of the garden he helped start, and I’m reminded how relationships are precious and fleeting but the seeds we plant together do somehow grow.

Maybe because a woman in my neighborhood, with whom I used to be friends, died last week and I just found out about it from the little local newspaper. I didn’t even know she was ill. Perhaps I could have paid better attention.

Maybe because the whole frickin’ world is either burning or drowning and all hands are needed on deck, pronto.

Maybe because I just had a birthday and the tick tick tick of time and the pull of passion pounds me on the side of my head daily, demanding that I stay the course when I often can’t even see the road.

Maybe because I still choose to believe that we are each necessary.

That we are here for a specific calling.

That every move matters.

Especially now.

 

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