Looking at people as anything but Angels in Earthsuits, wearing an incredibly compelling psychic thingamagig (that brings on Soul level cosmic amnesia), means I’m still mesmerized by my own thingamagig.
Last month the shift hit the fan at the Board of Directors of Me. Long story short, we fired my inner critic. Though he’s still trying to be heard, the new structure is working fine & we’re moving on. Turns out nobody misses the jabbering old curmudgeon anyway (-:
Eternity Never Started