I think too much about little things, I should have been a Philosophy Major

My grandmother made two ceramic nativity scenes years ago. My mother and her sister absolutely love each of them, so they swap them every couple of years, this year it was my mothers turn for the larger scaled one. As she is unpacking the pieces, as the last piece is unwrapped and placed in its respectful place within the scene, she lets out a little laugh... baby Jesus is missing.

That spoke worlds to me. It speaks worlds about the modern view of Christmas and Jesus.

There now lies a Fisher Price red overall wearing dollhouse toddler in the manger. It is kind of comical in retrospect; but because I think too much... it meant so much more than "whoops" to me.

Forgotten.

I think somewhere between last spring and the middle of fall, I lost my direction. I have wandered around in what feels like a wilderness for a while looking for something to lead me in the direction, never looking in the right places, feeling forgotten. Going through the motions but never changing where I look. I feel like I finally have the scent... but I'm still on the path, this meandering path, called life.

It seems everytime i try to sit down and figure out the fragmented peices of thoughts I have it all seems to get more fragmented... maybe when something becomes solid I'll be able to make sense of this fragmentation.