Is this happening to me, or was it always like this? That is the question I am asking about my 75 years of consciousness. We are talking ¾ of a century. We are talking me. I am particularly aware of this because Jane just turned 65 today, the spring of her chickenhood barely under way. Mine being well into the advanced stage.  Anyway, what I notice is a tendency to a deep and spontaneous interiority. I mean, we will sit down to dinner, Jane and I, and if I have come from, say, a bout of writing, Read more [...]