Day after day as I walk through life's journey, my gait is not hurried.

My desire is to savour every pace I lay hold of, whether it is a delightful stroll with the gentle caressing of the breeze on my cheeks, or a jog in which I have to stride simply because the turbulent wind is violently ruffling my hair.

Yet, I am still walking with vigor, my every step purposeful because this I know, Life is not a constant, it is a variable.

Changes intertwining with occasional upheavals are necessary, providing an awakening jolt, a redemptive opportunity or a turnover experience.

True, my energy level depletes when I am worn out, my annoyance meter through the roof when dealing with air-headed bozos, my heart wrenched with hurt when circumstances seem too much to bear.

Despite all that, the source of my joy is never from retail therapy (although it is a superb contributing factor), gorging myself silly with luscious food or even writing (though I do experience a deep sense of accomplishment when I complete a piece).

After a long and weary day, my fulfillment comes from delighting myself in Him, my resting abode.

I believe, with willfulness and intent in each pace,
life would be celebrated with much more fervour, cherished in a greater capacity.

Take purposeful paces, plant your feet strong. Do not let your paces be meaningless nothings, easily billowed.