It’s not difficult to look around and take this life of mine for granted. I sit this morning in an easy chair and observe all these accumulated objects that fulfill some kind of undefined necessity. It has me thinking about the days when things were much different.

Throughout the many years, things have come and gone. Objects, people, places and thoughts. Even typing, I look at my aging hands and remember what they have done, both the good and bad, while reminiscing of the things I’ve carried with them; the places they’ve gone with me.

I watched two young men walking down a sidewalk in the neighborhood I grew up in a few days ago. I don’t know what they were doing, but they were laughing and looking to see if anyone passing by was looking at them. It reminded of the yesterdays when I would walk those same streets and turn my head to see the passerby. The two boys were dressed much like I once had dressed: hoodie, loose pants and sneakers. Perhaps they were carrying a pack of smokes and a couple joints like I had? The fast-paced walk of both of them took me back to a time that looked nothing like the slow pace of my morning of today.

Everything has a time. Everything results from a moment in time. It’s sort of nice to rejoice in the good news of my life; the life I am living right now, in this very moment. It’s intriguing to study these same hands and continue to make the decisions that lead to what I will decide to sculpt with them.

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