But What?

Many years ago, I was asked why I write.

"I write so I can breathe."

Being a Scorpio isn't easy.  A friend once commented:

"You have so much passion."

Life is just exciting.  Well, most of the time.  It hasn't been too exciting recently.  But that will change.             

E.O. has a new book out.  http://www.nytimes.com/2014/11/11/science/in-a-window-on-eternity-edward-o-wilson-finds-a-paradise-but-says-more-are-needed.html?ref=science

I can't remember a time when I haven't read, E.O.  His optimism fascinates me.  I wonder how he does it.  Most of my life, I have been an optimist.  Well, cautiously optimistic.  I always see possibilities.  In things, in people.  But lately, I have been frustrated.  Maybe it is the ranting on social media.  Mine included.  I am on there less and less.  Included the computer.  It does allow me an interesting forum in which to write.

An environmentalist friend mentioned at lunch today, that he is rarely on the device.  He loathes texting.  In fact, he refuses to answer it anymore.

"They can call me," he says.

I must agree on that. It is mostly a hit and run.  But I reminded him that once upon a time, people wrote letters.  More detailed, I suspect.  So texting is simply a short, extremely short version of it.

Back to the passion.  Or the lack of it lately.  I am ready for the next phase.  But what?

What.