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The hardest part of not doing anything is not doing anything significant.  What’s significant?  Something that matters.  Something that lift people up.  Something that makes it feel as if life could go on…and on and on and on.

As I sit here in my trailer, my little tortoise shell, with Dinah lying at my feet and Louise perched at the window watching the morning birds, I realize that doing nothing is actually more significant than running out there and creating some havoc just to say that something is happening.  Enjoying each moment, breathing in the morning air, listening to the birds as they wake up for the day, calling to each other from one tree to another.  Preparing to greet and meet another day with grace and kindness.  How much more significant can one be than that?

Not significant?
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