Lately it feels like I'm walking a labyrinth—and not the fun type where you find serenity waiting for you after an arcing, meditative walk; or the exciting type where an animal mystery is at the center; or even a magical one with singing Muppets. No, I'm talking the anxious, mirrored labyrinth where the strings you tie to milestones break after you go around silvered corners, leaving you unable to navigate back to places you can only see through the reflected turns. All you have are broken strings in your hands and troubling redoubled likenesses of things yet to pass. Occasionally, you return to a milestone knotted with with broken strands leading in multiple directions. Walking backward won't help.
I obviously need to spend more time making art, gardening, and spending more mindful time with Mark—and less time on social media.
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