(no subject)

[serene]

Coexisting with my low-lying anxiety over stuff I can't control is a deep peace and joy. Most days, most times, the joy wins. Today was one of those days.

Doesn't hurt that I got a lot of cooking and baking done today. A batch of toffee, two loaves of bread, a layered polenta bake for dinner, and I don't know what else. And the kitchen is clean, which is even more of a joy, because tomorrow, I really have to work on my project, and won't have time for much puttering before I go over to stonebender's place.

I think a lot about my own death, always have. Lately, I've been feeling pretty satisfied that when I die, even if it's much sooner than I hope, I will have lived a pretty good life.

Comments

[mhw.livejournal.com]

I'm really glad that things are so good for you. You deserve every bit of it, and then some.

*hugs*

[dbubley.livejournal.com]

I think about my dying more than I think about my death, although we may be talking about the same thing. To me dying is the process that ends in death. Death is what comes after the dying is done. I'm afraid of dying, but not really afraid of death at all. I sort of figure that by the time I reach death whatever I was afraid of will be over. Death might be wonderful, horrible, not really that big of a deal, or nothing, nothing at all. I don't know what to worry about, so I don't really, although I do wonder. Dying, otoh, gives me plenty of images to worry about, and fear.