It’s easy to argue there isn’t enough time.
My oldest daughter Quinn has challenged me around this, saying: I spread myself to thin.
Maybe instead the axiom should be there isn’t enough focus.
Thinking about that. The wonderings around what it means to give things up. The balancing act that leaves space for serendipity to pull in, even if it is a tight parallel parking job. Fenders dinged perhaps, but parked nonetheless.
Streak Count: Day 2