It’s been quite the week for reflection, my loves.

I have just now begin to realise how very complicated, intricate and delicate the balance of life is. How we all value it and our own personal, sometimes comical, at other times tragic, balancing acts.

We tend to wax romantic about youth. We were line-free. No traces of melanoma. No freshman 10. Full heads of hair.

Remember a time when your greatest worry was colouring outside the lines? Remember the scoldings you’d receive? And that, my friends, was your harshest remark. It was the macroverse to your microverse of pen, paper, crayon and colouring book. Ever bear down on an outline of a sun with a Cerulean crayon? Bold strokes with all the confidence your 6 year old self could muster.

I want to break free. I did then, and I do now. However, at that time, it involved inviting the “weird smelly” kid to my party. Now, it’s all about balancing my checkbook, going to the grovery store, trying to not infuriate my fiance’, attempting to fulfill my own needs and satisfactions, avoiding confrontation, getting that job application in and doing it all with no safety net.

Is *this* what colouring the sun a brilliant blue was all about?
I think we have a problem here.

A prayer for the wild at heart, kept in cages.