As time goes on i find myself thinking of the past like a book i read. That child or girl or woman is "she" and somehow separate from me. Well, no reason i can't learn from a book, is there?
The future now, that is the unwritten book. But . . .i find myself thinking of it as a dream i might or might not have when i sleep again. That person isn't me either.
And even though my life is a good one, and i am striving to improve as a being, i find living this life to be somewhat of a mighty effort. I think one moment at a time is about all i can handle!