I'm sitting at the window where I write my morning pages in the short cold season.
It's my peaceful window on the world.
There's not much to see but nature, sky and the odd person walking by.
Sometimes there's a horse in the field, sometimes there's four horses. I don't know whose they are, nor where they come from.
Sitting at my window I'm reminded of my choice to leave behind my life in the city four years ago. That I chose to slow it down and simplify it. It's not everyone's cup of tea.
Last night I fell into the trap, while reading and tweeting, while seeing what others do and have 'achieved', of believing that I'm a failure and an under-achiever, that I have not accumulated possessions, that nor do I have bank accounts flowing over with money, nor investment portfolios. That, in fact, neither do I have medical aid, nor a pension.
Then, when I again have clarity after a good night's sleep, and where my thoughts and life become clear again as I write them out on the pages, I am again satisfied that I have taken the right choices for my life. I want to simplify it. I want to live deeply, passionately, intensely. I want to continue leading a good and faithful life, trusting that my every need will be taken care of. That even when it appears to me that I have nothing, that I must still help those in need, that I lend without expecting it back, that I'm kind, compassionate and that I love unconditionally.
All else is meaningless.