Spo-fans know I keep a diary. I started journaling in the 70s. I documented the day’s or week’s events. My journals are helpful when Someone and I can’t remember which year we did something or for recalling the name of a restaurant we liked when we were in Charlevoix Michigan last year. I document thoughts and things I do not put in blog-form. It sometimes acts as a bowl in which to purge up black bile and other dark humors.

Last night I sat staring at the blank page. I haven’t written in over a week. I could not recall anything happening.  There wasn’t anything to record. I try to avoid mundane entries such as –

“The week was consumed with work. We had pork chops for dinner. We went to the symphony and I fell asleep – again.”

But that is what the week was: daily doings of no importance.  “How dull” I thought, but then I remembered this is Life: the process of doing things that don’t seem important or thrilling.

Alas, most people realize happiness only after it passes. “Last year I was happy” people tell me. Yet if they were to go back in Time to that time in their lives, and asked themselves “Are you happy?” the past self would be bewildered.  “Happy? What do you mean? Can’t you see I am busy?  I am doing my job, running a household and I have nothing exciting going on.”

So I wrote an entry I had a lot of work, I went to the gym 4x this week. I am working on a shirt. I fixed the computer, and read some books etc. etc. etc.  Harper had a bath.  We changed the spa water, as it is that time of they year.”  And then I added, “And I am happy.”

That is worthwhile to reread someday.

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