Sumpin' Witty

I woke up on my 35th birthday to my 13-year-old dog having a seizure. Not a great way to start what could very well be the mid-point in my life (depending on how much Zumba I do), but one of those moments that reminds you that shit isn't always going to be like this. Everything changes, everything comes to end, and if we're lucky enough to still be breathing, we have a chance to start again. Call it a mid-life crisis (or if I'm lucky a third-life crisis). Call it my lastest fitness obsession since I seemed to have phased out my Salsa Fever that consumed the 34th year of my life. Call it what you want, but I decided to go to Zumba. Now, going to Zumba was something I never, ever in a million years would have thought I would have done. Aside from the fact that dancing in a group setting, with a bunch of overly peepy fitness freaks, would have made me run the other way just a couple of years ago, I had a personal vendetta against Zumba. You see, when my ex of 8 years...

Each moment is like a grain of sand. Broken glass and sea shells, coral and pieces of life lived. It sits on the shore, just waiting to be touched, waiting for us to touch it. Each moment of our lives is just a piece of sand, coming together to make up the shore of our whole existence. And if we let it, it can start to bury us, to consume us. It can make us rough, covered from the warmth of the sun, hidden under the mass amounts of experiences we have to live. I'm working on letting go. I'm working on walking away from things that no longer serve me. I'm working on letting memories be memories, letting them be what they were, but leaving them in the past. Good memories and bad memories, and horrible ones, and wonderful ones, because if we carry all of them with us, if we try to hold on to each piece of sand, we won't have any room left for new ones. If you allow each grain of sand to cling to you, eventually you'll become heavy, weighed down. because ...