Hard to believe it is actually the end.

Cold and damp seeping in through my slippers. This coffee cup doesn’t quite fit in the cup holder like I thought it would. Quiet ride this morning.

Short day.

What even is the point?

You can hear the fatigue in our voices.

The strange feeling of space re-entering the schedule. A void to either be filled - hopefully with something meaningful - or left empty and appreciated.

I will never understand.

Tillamook Marionberry Pie.

When you listen with intention, you can stitch together enough of what is and isn’t said to draw a snapshot of the heart and mind.

On a scale of 1-5, how engaged were you today?