I always thought I’d become a hermit. I saw myself in the bush somewhere, surrounded by breaking sticks and bark for miles and I was home there. No one to argue with. No one to feel too much of.
I’m not far off what I thought I’d be, I realised the other day.
I have only a few good friends.
I enjoy only the shortest get togethers before I search for the nearest exit. I like it this way. A little bit of a lot, is better than a lot of a little bit, to me.
Not that I don’t like people, quite the opposite. People can be miraculous when they allow themselves to be. When they even know the miraculous is available to them…and that’s where the hermit thing comes in. Not many people around here know about miraculous humanity.
And so I’m not a hermit, not really.
But then, I am in a way.
I always will be, but for the few I choose carefully.
And I do choose. Carefully.
And usually with love.