Another week begins just like an idea. So much potential, so many things to correct. I love beginnings because so much seems possible, so much can be done. And as long as the focus is on change, things move but then time attacks and old fights begin their assault on your attention, simmering egos burst open, and the to do list that seemed so doable now reads like a charge sheet of unfinished crimes. But the power to change remains unless we purposefully forget it. Maybe its age. I know before it didnt take much for me to get re-energized about starting over, but now it seems the burden to remove the old layers of failures gets heavier and heavier. Instead of a new beginning seeming like a sunrise, it now appears to be setting down on me.
Happy Monday, oh where art thou?