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The life of privilege fits me like a glove and I slip right in. We have the whole west wing, three generations are represented and I’m beginning to wonder why I ever walked away from the life I worked so hard for. 

  
  
I’m beginning to wonder, maybe I’m not a minimalist, maybe I don’t want such an extremely simple life. Sitting in a post card I ponder the half dozen very generous offers I have received from all over the world.  I have options, all I have to do is say yes. 

Helicopter rides, zip lines? Scuba, rent a plane… Come on Al you big chicken come with is.  No one in my family knows I have a blog, if they do they haven’t  read it.   How do I explain I have spent the better part of the year pushing my life to the fringes. I don’t need to pay for adrenaline, my fun meter is pegged.

I’m still weak from pushing too many calories out without putting enough fuel in the tank. I spend my days drifting at sea, I lay on my back floating  on the surface. I can hear the sand crunching beneath me, my lungs draw a another breath, I am free as a bird. Free diving has always been my zen and I do it often.  Drifting under a reef playing with an eel I’m at complete peace, the sea is my treasure, I can only stay down as long a I can hold my breath.  The more I work at it the stronger the reward.   

I pick up a little silver bell and tinkle it, one more cup of coffee please. 

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