I feel like it has taken all my life for me to figure out who I am. Now, as I approach my 61st birthday, which is coming up on the Winter Solstice, I feel pretty content. I've been happy about me at other times in my life, but there is something more solid about now. To tell the truth, I think the art has had a huge impact on grounding me. The writing, the watercolor, the poetry, the comedy. It is as if all my life I was longing be an artist, a writer, a performer, but wouldn't allow myself to believe I could. Not really. So I hushed the longing, telling myself I wasn't talented. And I realize I probably do not have any real talent, but that doesn't matter anymore. I now have a real happiness. And that happiness is just beginning to show in other areas of my life so that the happiness is genuine and solid and steadfast. It isn't just fleeting, based on some person's opinion of me. I am excited to finally be the me I was meant to be.