He was meant to be a Frenchman…doesn’t he just look it? Oui! Instead he was born to be a comedian.
Sometimes I think I was meant to be European…
I long for relaxed days filled with food, adventure and open minded people.
Sometimes I think I was meant to be Laura Ingalls...
with a lifestyle of slow food I would work the land and appreciate the exquisite rarity of a cup of sugar. Or silk.
Sometimes I think I was meant to be Tahitian...
where home is ocean, sand and a lovely shack and I live only on salt air. Happy air.
Sometimes I think I was meant to be a Broadway star…
my voice didn’t get the memo that my heart belongs on stage.
Sometimes I think I was meant to live in Portland…
(Or Asheville, or Boulder or Santa Fe) where I know a high concentration of “my people” reside.
much better, I was *born* to be where I am. Who I am. With the people I am (with).
Mom, teacher, nutritionist, bug catcher, book reader, back massager, laugh-giver,
lover of these children. All four of them.
Now it’s your turn…what were you mean to be? Are you born to be?