Simple

 Simple things have always been able to thrill me.An unexpected box of Thin Mints,the sun streaming through clouds on a wide open field,a garlic press from someone who just wants to make my life a bit easier,and especially the smile of a baby who knows me.  “You’re easy to please,” my mother says (usually with a smile of her own) “It’s a good thing,” she reminds me. My simple joy is often eclipsed by my belief that I should be perfect.It’s a dark thought.Perfection mars the beauty of contentment,the satisfaction of good-enough.I push me towards better, best, perfect.  Getting older has been fraught with the reminder:return to simple.Return to my true nature.Return to giddy because today is today is today.Today I am, today I’m here.Today is good enough.  

This poem is about: 
Me

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