I work hard at trying to turn my mind into a useful tool instead of the annoying nuisance it tends to be. It distorts reality and often fills me with dread. Sometimes, I call Betty June and ask her if we can meet for coffee and discuss my wayward thoughts. She’s an obliging person and a treasure of anecdotal insights.

 I’m going on about not understanding the inner workings of my mind and inability to ease the idle chatter getting in the way of the life I would like to live. We hunker over our lattes and wait for me to say something significant. Nothing comes to mind. Finally, Betty June says, “Thoughts are meaningless things, darlin. Let them all go to allow room for joy?”

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