Engaged – writing, boat sitting, reading, meditating, walking, driving, painting, consulting, practicing yoga, processing national and international political masochistic and sadistic leanings, and massaging my philosophy. Memoir draft is in the hands of readers. I occasionally recognize people in passing from the yesterdays and yesteryears, and other times the sense of a bleed through reality occurs. I write about it in my memoir. Selecting what to be engaged in or not increases in significance with age and desire.

Was/is reality ever consistent? In some fashion reality feels like a play where the plot is not revealed until the third act with an existential twist at the end.

My journalist friend in Bonn, Germany observed her predicament about being engaged or unengaged. With her permission I paraphrase – not superstitious, but places care in the words she chooses, so those very words do not come back to haunt her. Yer, she vociferously promised herself never to get engaged again but then got engaged once more. A few months later, broke off being engaged – career commitment came first. Meanwhile, she has ventured forth to her next difficult assignment.  In her world of freelance journalism, she’s found her real pleasure through her encounters with people and ideas that fill the appetite for adventure, insatiable curiosity, and her spirited nature yet places her in precarious situations, like finding her luggage was misplaced and while dodging live bullets. She’s engaged on another kind of stage that has its own rewards anat times she has found she was entering the third act while learning on the run. Affairs of state, desire for power and follow the money though ubiquitous lead to tragedy for large numbers of the unengaged. And fascistic tendencies are hard to mask and become unengaged from, until it’s too late.  There’s money to made off the hardship of others. My friend is quite engaged.

I have a digital folder titled – Considerations for Engagement.