I’d like to learn how to make whiskey

and play the fiddle

and how to sew quilts.

At a certain point in life it seems we give up on some desires, the big, far-away lofty ones, and a few small, close, dear ones.  We accept the idea that we needed to learn how to do it when we were young, and a small measure of defeat sets in and reincarnates itself as hopes for our children.

But I still want to learn how to speak Spanish, and French, too.

I’d like to learn how to ride a horse, and then have one of my own someday to ride along the logging roads in the forest that stretches out and rises up from this hillside pasture.

Learning doesn’t have to stop.  Childhood wonder doesn’t have to fade away.

We wake up everyday and we can open our eyes to possibilities, because that’s what each new day is: a possibility.

I don’t know what I’ll approach first, the whiskey or the quilting, the horse-back riding or the fiddle.  I just know that it’s not impossible.  All it takes is two hands, an open mind, and the courage to try.