Simply living. Imaginatively.

It’s Ground Hog Day. And I am alive and functional. At age 83. Probably with a few more years of useful life. Left. That should make me brilliantly happy. Instead, I’m only moderately happy. Why is that?  Interesting, isn’t it? That I rate myself. A self-evaluation. More evidence. That I’m analytical. By nature. A philosophical bent. Or inclination. Trying to figure things out. That’s the way  I live. Spending lots of time. Talking. Musing. To my inner being.  My world. More inward. Than outward. I’m aware. Of a spiritual dimension. Even though I live in the physical. With real live people around me. Some already ’dead’ and gone. Still. I wonder what it means to be ‘gone.’  After all, I talk to anyone who ever lived. With direct access to the spiritual realm. Through my imagination. Could be. That’s the essence of life. A vivid imagination. If so. One never dies.  Simply living. Imaginatively. --Jim Broede