Good morning people. I will do this, because the years bring a much greater appreciation to the scrumptious details of life, and the rest doesn’t matter. So here is this.
I have had a great year and much of the credit goes to the mad place where I live. This city is an on-going assault on the senses that keeps me always on my toes, and I love it. I can’t be bored here even if I plan it.
It’s been a constant stream of real people who have given it all colour and texture; old friends rediscovered (thanks to the one hour flight from Cairo); new ones who found their place in my life with such ease, it must have always been there; countless nameless heroes I meet through my work all the time; a four year old niece who will make any hard-headed a believer in evolution (seeing how the genes have clearly improved); all nudging my peripheries, expanding them in unexpected ways. When it comes to people in my life, it’s always been the best.
Years later, I love life and surrendered to that fact. And it must have realised, because it seems to have quit the wrestling and just loves me back.
There is no destiny. We make the best of what comes our way, or we don’t.
I am 34 today and feel right up there on a high. No sight of down-hills anywhere close. And it’s a matter of choice.