Here in what feels like way too much space I consider my backpack. Right now it has four stories from four different writers in it, a couple of books and that's it. It hangs on a door knob waiting for a moment. At times I look at it and think, let's go.
I see hitchhikers and want to pick them up because I want to hear their story. I want to hear about when they started walking. I want to know where they are going and what they plan to do when they get there. Or, better yet it seems, if they just stopped having plans.
Then I wonder if that cousin of mine in his ability to move quickly has ever yearned to get comfortable enough to stay. Maybe, I don't know, but maybe it'd be good just to get comfortable in the knowledge we all have some type of yearning. It's just another one of those things that makes us human.
Maybe we can just listen to Janis now. Seems appropriate.
This is when Daddy says, Ya' know, Boog, she did trade all her tomorrows.
Tonight I am grateful for the knowledge that being grateful doesn't mean you can't want for less or more.