I’m sitting in The Beehive in Danville, Indiana. I just finished a “Two Berry Muffin,” and I’ll soon start on another small half-caff coffee (with a little cream and real sugar). I love this place. It’s local, it’s somewhat cozy, they have coffee (an immediate bonus point), and the owner is young…like my age. You go girl.

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Anyway, so I’m sitting here sorting through all the web pages I have up in Safari waiting to be read. Some I will read, others I’ll skim, and some will get tossed out. Most of them are along the same lines…minimalism and simple living. Right now, it’s my passion.

I am a student. Not in the tradition sense, but in the sense that I’m not satisfied if I’m not continually filling my mind with more knowledge. And I don’t want knowledge for the sake of knowing gobs of trivial facts or being the most knowledgable (read: know-it-all) in the room. No, knowledge, for me, is fuel for growth. I won’t flourish if I’m not learning.

I suppose that’s a truth for everyone, but I feel like it’s one the deepest parts of me. I am a learner.

And so, I do constant research. I have this tendency, when I find something I’m fascinated with, to spend every free minute reading, listening, thinking, talking about the topic. It may just drive my husband crazy. But he loves when I’m me, and that’s when I’m most definitely myself. Sorry for your quandary, Love.

Time to get back to it.