Yesterday, I forgot.
When I got home, I realized it was open — had been down for two hours — while I stocked shelves at the food pantry, on a step ladder, with ten others, men and women. Perhaps, at our age, no one noticed or cared.
My barn door, in mixed company, such quaint language, exposing my age.
It ain’t easy being 76. At least I’m no longer in front of a classroom. Unless it’s a Life Long Learning class, with other — what’s the current correct term — older Americans. But in my last class, someone offered, “Aren’t we North Americans?” and another, “What about Canada?”
Next time, I’ll stay behind the podium.
In the safety of my bathroom, as I stood in repose, I thought, This is my chance to begin a meditation routine. One of my favorite Medium writers, Gary Buzzard, provides ‘One minute can change your life.’
Perfect.
Zip!
