Thursday

The Byron poem was "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage."  I'll admit that I haven't read the whole thing, but I remember being blown away by what I did read and how evocative it seemed to me at the time (I was 21, I think.)  It's his descriptions of places, made me more excited about seeing the world.

And looking back on the year, I am thankful for second (and third and fourth and fifth) chances.  Been a lot of those this year.  Got to know some wonderful people I wouldn't have otherwise.  Sometimes first impressions are spot on, sometimes they are not.  Sometimes our own baggage and insecurities get in the way.  And sometimes everything changes from moment to moment and you can't figure it out.  There is that baggage where someone reminds you of someone else and that gets in the way of seeing who this person standing right in front of you actually is.  Always heed the red flags that come up, of course, but sometimes we judge people too quickly assuming we have nothing in common and would never get along, and sometimes we are wrong.  And I had second chances this year where my first impressions were wrong, and as a result met people I'm happy to know, my life is better for it.  (One of them is possibly the most remarkably thoughtful person I've ever met, and my belief in my inherent value as a human being goes up in their presence.  It's little things, but they are really thoughtful.)  Grateful for this year and the roller-coaster ride it's been.  I know it's not over yet, another 19 days to turn my life upside down, why not?

That's not meant as a taunt, only as an observation on how much change there has been this year, and how often that has occurred.

Cheers.