This life may be difficult, puzzling, frustrating and completely confusing. But at the same time there is the sense that at least it’s my difficult, puzzling, frustrating and completely confusing life, wholly 100% mine.
It is puzzling, there is no doubt about that. Yet there is a strong undercurrent of joy at the fact that it’s mine. It sounds so basic and obvious, like you don’t have to be hit over the head with a plank to realize that. And it’s true, it is pretty obvious. I mean whose life is it going to be? Yet I think for many years I either forgot or never knew fully that this life is a gift that I’ve been given. So the good, the bad, the downright frustrating and impenetrable muck, it is happily mine and mine alone.