Back on Track

I’m back on track again.
Wherever that means.
Is there a trail I’m following and from which I wander off now and then?
One that I then get “back on track” with again? Do I leave any tracks behind me?
Are they barefoot tracks; a bit bloodied by the prickles and bruises?
By worries over Jan’s health and over money, or the scariness of the next highlighted date on my calendar?.

The more I focus on NOT worrying and staying in the moment, the more I’m aware of how overflowing my daily dose of anxiety and worry over the future.

Silly ol’ me.
Silly ol’ bear.
But another opportunity to hug myself.
Embrace the worrier.
Allow my fidgeting, itching self to be exactly who she is right now.
An unenlightened worry wart with a heart full of dreams.
As long as I don’t lose track of the dream, I’m okay.
Ahhhhhhhhhh. . .that’s where my “track” is.
Being the Dreamer.
Asleep or awake, I dream of freedom and fun.
Of dance and drum
And wind through my hair.
Of me. . . twirreling my worry wart self around in a frilly skirt on the beach
at sunset.