Choices. Intersections. Mistakes

My little dog sleeps at my feet. One of our chickens, Lilly, just laid an egg and, in her usual fashion, is telling the world how wonderful she is, chortling away.

The heat that was going to arrive has gratefully been swept into clouds, the threat of storms now imminent. Our weather is topsy-turvy. 

A reflection of the state of the world.

Careful plans have been frayed. 

We wait, in death’s antechamber, for the next action. That final one. And all that comes with that.

I think about this. About my life. Marching with such speed into aging and all the consequences. About choices. Intersections. Mistakes. 

It seems that all around me, people are being thrown curveballs. Ducking and weaving, hanging by threads. Juggling. 

I am not alone in this experience. 

Once upon a time, I believed in heaven’s messages. I would read too much into this and that. I would project blame onto something beyond my capacity to influence. It’s in the stars.

Now, I take it all as it is. Cycles and seasons, rhythms and beats, silence and shouting. The confusion and chaos. 

It is the Pattern Integrity of existence, toward emergence, that is the sensemaker. Often only telling its story when we look back. 

And the now – this presence of time. How do we respond to now? What choices do we make?

Are we moving toward integrity? To be complete and whole?

Or do we take the easy path, where lies, self and other deception, cowardice and cruelty rule?

As Mary Oliver wrote. What do you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

And how, in your plans, do you choose to show up? 

Every moment. We get this choice.

Choose integrity.

Photo Taken October 7th 2025, Article published December 7th 2025