Life at 3 miles an Hour

We all know those people ... some of us are those people... the people who have an answer for everything.  There are a few variations of them.  There is the version that is already out in front of the game and pursues their path and plants their flag in it no matter the reality.  They don't even remotely claim to be interested in the opinion, experience, or outright knowledge of others.  There is the version who will engage with the knowledge of others, but then debate them at every turn.  You know that kid ... the one who always has their hand up during class.  Then there is the version who will feign interest in the advice of others ... sometime even seek it out ... as they acknowledge their own shortcomings. When given advice they will then deflect it with the skill of an NHL goalkeeper ,,, continually and unflinchingly informing you of their own justification for the shortcomings of your solutions.  This is, for me, the most frustrating of all the versions.  At least the first

I picked a great day to return.  Alki point is nearly always the place that the Fall and Winter storms batter the Seattle area shoreline. The winds from the North funnel down the sound for a direct hit on our urban peninsula. From the warmth of my window seat in Starbucks I can feel the waves pounding the promenade.  Even from across the street, while sipping on the first of my holiday season drinks, I can feel the concussions in my feet as they rest on this stool. Its good to be back in more ways than one.   This place, once upon a time, years ago my weekly go to writing home, now seems a vague echo of another life.  To be honest, even writing, especially with any regularity has been nearly forgotten.  It's not that I haven't tried.  I've tried so many times to just sit down and, once again be able to process outwardly the internal workings of my soul.  For years, sifting through my thoughts and pouring them into this space and a few others has brought balance and kept san