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Riding the Spiral.

I find myself  today, riding the spiral.

Up and Down

In and Out

Back and Forth

There was a time that this would have felt stagnant. It would have felt like being stuck in the same cycles. I would have described it as pacing the treadmill.

But this, today, is different. It is more and somehow it is leading me to less.

My words are cryptic this morning when there are few minutes to write

but I must, I must,

I must take this few minutes.

Whether it makes sense to anyone else or not, these words are for me.

It is how I began many years ago.

I wrote for me.

I wrote to leave some record of my journey through life.

I wrote

of the mundane that was profoundly wise.

 of the common that was uncommonly beautiful.

 of the struggle to find belief in my doubts.

I discovered myself in my words.

I uncovered myself and made way for an artist to emerge.

I thought I had excavated all that was buried.

Now, I see that in my frantic digging, I covered up some things.

Back to sifting, back to sorting through and rediscovering the valuable things.

Now to placing my treasured artifacts in the honored place where they belong.