So it is two a.m. and I could not fall asleep, so here I am. But then I am always here and I am always “I am.” The mind is full of plans for how to make Vicki a better version of herself. But she cannot make Vicki fall asleep or even wake her up in the morning.

As I get older, the mind is falling to pieces, as is the body. The emotions, catching sight of this fact, seem to get a kick out of it. I got a paper in the mailbox inviting me to the neighborhood holiday get-together. It is a potluck and I no longer cook large portions of anything. Not only that, I have no desire to go.

I am a true introvert. When you deck me out in extrovert’s clothing, I may appear otherwise. But I pay a steep price for it. Besides, this lifetime finds me belonging to no group for long. I crave solitude and that is that.

I asked Rob to put the bow on the mailbox today and to hang the wreath on the door. The wreath is over 30 years old and is somewhat the worse for wear. I don’t care. I am just not into decorating or baking anymore.

So how do I fill my days? I maintain the house and yard with help. I love grocery shopping and often go twice a week. Rob pitches in to cook on a regular basis and other than that, my days are free.

I am limited in how far I can walk. It’s not that I am weak; it’s just that my neuropathy will not allow me to even walk around the block. I should be worried about this, but I am not. I lucked up and was referred to a neurologist I have seen only once. He sees to my prescription needs via email and makes it easier on me.
During the day I forget the nights when I have pain. But let me go to bed and the misery starts. I will fall back asleep at some point and sleep late tomorrow to compensate.

One thing I have learned thoroughly is that I am one tough cookie. I am a survivor and survivors keep it simple. Complexities have no place in my life. I write simple, too, don’t I?

For some reason I took an old picture of my mother and looked at it. Then I put it on my nightstand. I do not grieve for her at all. Most of my life, I was at her beck and call. But when she moved up north to live with my sister, the lifelong command to serve her was broken. I had been a good daughter long enough.

I have been everything long enough. Now I enter the last phase of the spiritual journey, jettisoning all desire to be a good student. Theo has set me free from obligation to anyone. He has no desire to teach me, either. I guess it is just a friendship that smiles and walks on into the everlasting now.

Vicki Woodyard