The muddy water. I’m wading through it. Metaphor. I know, it’s life. Each day I feel the need to walk down to the pond and meditate. Let the summer sun take me away. Be one with the mosquitoes and bees. Take a swim in that water with the fish right beside me. Be one with the land. Let God’s creation envelope me in a hug. One I’ve denied myself for far too long. Maybe as we children, we have it right. Too much thinking, not enough doing. Jump, don’t hesitate. Not everything with bite unless we try. When I say we, I mean me. I’ve put off writing, beyond what I’ve gotten comfortable with, and that’s not when you grow. I want lots of things, but I’ve not put in the work. Anything worth doing takes effort, even if that is to remind myself to breathe and hydrate. I’m reading others’ words. I need to read my own. That means I must write them. What’s the good with talent, if you don’t use it. It goes wasted. I have always worried, and God has always said: Go! I won’t let you fail. If you do, it is alright. We’ve made failure a bad word. I need to embrace it. Success comes from repeated failure. I’ve stopped failing, because I stopped trying. The world’s must successful failure. I like the sound of that. Making lemonade again. It feels so good to get into the weeds again. Will you join me?