Rock Your Gypsy Soul

Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic" came up on shuffle today.  Oh Van, you sing so pretty.  I listened to that song nine thousand times the summer of 1989 in Cape Cod while my 12-year-old-self was busy building bonfires, drinking peach schnapps, and telling boys on the beach that I was totally 16.

Yes, now at 36, I would like to rock my gypsy soul, please, "just like way back in the days of old."  I want a renewed sense of possibility and freedom.  I want to live like I'll never be as young as I am today because... I'll never be as young as I am today.  This is my one and only chance to be here and now, where I live, with the people I love, and I would very much like to do it without guilt, anxiety, overblown drama, unwarranted procrastination, and other such ridiculousness.

Admittedly, I'm on a bit of a tear lately about living large.  I'm harping on the passage of time a tad tiddly touch.  I think I might start wearing crazy old lady clothes, big feather hats and therapeutic shoes.  And yes, you can take that as a warning.

"Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic."