On days like yesterday, when I’m discouraged, depressed and disappointed, I need to remember how I felt walking into CNN Center on Monday mornings.  The dread of another week doing soul-sapping, mind-numbing work for other people clashed just perfectly with the self-induced physical discomfort and disconnect from reality (call it a hangover, whatever…).  I need to recall why it was that I chucked it all to the wind and set out on a journey with a loosely defined destination.   I’m still alive.  I’m a bit poorer on the balance sheet.  My hair is turning gray.  I don’t sleep well.  But I’m home and I’m doing things on my terms.  Successes haven’t come as quickly or in the volume that I want, but they’re mine.  I am closer than ever to the two people that gave me life.  Today is better than a year ago and infinitely better than two years ago.  I’ve reconnected with old friends and made dozens of new ones.  I know who the true ones are.  While the destination may not be completely defined, I know now where it is I DON’T want to go.   Fear is no longer part of the equation.  And for that, I’m eternally grateful.

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