**I posted this little essay back in December, when I first started up on Substack. I had six subscribers — and was thrilled! I thought I would repost it now that I am really up and going strong. If you have already read it, I thank you! If not, see what you think. You may know this person, too!
I have a friend who knows everything. I mean actually everything. My friend explains to me, for example, how to graft a new branch onto an old apple tree, how to make compost and save the world, and why it is simply not possible for dogs to think or to love.
He advises me on the best personal diet for a healthier me and a healthier planet. He tells me which toxic prescription medicines to Stop. Taking. Right. Now. Â He knows what kind of exercise I need and the benefits of daily doses of apple cider vinegar.
My friend knows whom I should vote for and why, and how to apply for building permits. He understands and is willing to explain zoning laws, and the importance of preserving riparian corridors. He tells me why I should avoid using all paper products and how a shock absorber works and how often I should change the batteries in my smoke alarm. I am not kidding.
In short he is absolutely insufferable. Most days I could smack him with a frozen leg of lamb and feel so much better for it. However — and here is the paradox. I envy him so much. How wonderful must it be to know you have the one right answer for everything. To know, without question, what your purpose is, here on earth, to live a mindful life, and know, without a doubt,  where you are going when you die?  Imagine the inner peace that must bring a person.
He makes me so damned mad, still I would love to have the comfort that his certitude gives him, delusional or not. Because, I tell you, I wander around this place most of the time, at age 78, not knowing what I am supposed to be doing now. I am not even clear on who I am anymore, other than the Invisible Woman in #10.
And yet, there are some things of which I am certain.  Every day without fail, I know I have to make my bed. Every night I have to be sure there are no unwashed dishes left in the sink. I wash my hair every day – when it isn’t even dirty. And I don’t wear a shirt that has a splotch of pasta sauce on it even if I am not leaving the house.  These are imperatives. Of these I am sure. Â
Of course, nothing bad would happen if I didn’t do them. Who would know? Or care? I could sit reading in my rocking chair all day long if I wanted to, or solve Wordles, take a nap, eat vinegar-flavored kettle chips until my blood pressure flies off the chart. ( Well, no … not that last one, but still! ) I could let myself go, but I don’t. Because although I have no personal belief whatsoever in the afterlife or in the spirit world, there is one more thing I know for sure – and that is that my mother is still here with me, even though she died four years ago. And I don’t want to disappoint her. She believed it was okay to be unclear on life’s big picture, as long as you were kind and kept things tidy, and sometimes that is enough.
I am quoting your mother! She said that to me fairly often.
A place for everything, and everything in its place!!!