Our purpose for writing varies. We write to think. We write to communicate. We write to inspire. We write because we must. I am gifting myself the time to write. For sure, I am uneasy. I do not remember a time when I have written. It feels indulgent and I am not sure if others would find it interesting. I value writing, but my behaviors do not support that. It is like I value health, but my habits do not support that all the time either. I see this is true in most of my life. Syncing up the belief and behaviors might just give me a new purpose. Each to their own on the path to self- realization. I do sometimes feel as though everyone else knows the rules of the game and I am yet to find the instruction manual. I prefer to think most of us are a hot mess sometimes and when we pull it together, we can enjoy a moment of bliss. My purpose is to share my hot messiness and general observations on life. Many things I wish people would have told me…but what is the fun in knowing all of the answers?