I remember when these things were malleable - and I always will be less than I once was and that's alright. But I can still make my eyes wide. I can still see sex as a sacrement and a ritual, and a spell and a prayer. I can still be amazed by the smallest things, and I can still be easily amused.
I could look puzzled and content to say, "I wonder where I'll float next?" And I will. But I can also move the puzzle pieces and follow the scent. I can still look sideways.
I'm still pretty sure there's a missing piece that I probably just have to wait for, but that's frustrating and I'd rather find some way to work. Wherever the puzzle piece is, whatever or whoever it is, had better be pretty awesome. I am not usually content with being saved.
It's the first day of December, and I am viscerally aware of how fortunate I am. Now if I could only remember how to rejoice more appropriately.