Ever catch yourself clutching something—stuff, people, ideas—and wonder if it’s worth the grip? I’m chewing on what sticks as the years pile up: a faded sweater, a mate’s laugh, a hope that’s still kicking. We haul frayed ties, dreams gone thin—why? Not saying toss it all—your bone, your bury. What did you keep or let go of?
I chew on faith as I get older—56 years in, and the big questions bark louder. Is Bible study the answer? God’s grace, peace, a steady leash? Never cracked it properly—forgot the Ten Commandments half the time! How do I start? NIV, apps, a coffee chat with the Big Guy. Got a verse or tip? Share with the pack!
Chewing on gratitude—sweaters, mates, possibilities. Life’s scraps pile up, and I’m overthinking what’s worth a wag: a chipped mug, a friend’s nod, a quiet “what if.” Social media’s flash and flex leave us wanting. I’m ditching that for what’s here—steady stuff, real bonds. What’s your thanks when the buzz fades? Let’s sort the gold from the gravel.
Dog chews on music—nostalgia, dance beats, whatever clicks. Sister’s old jams through the wall, YouTube’s 80s vibes, or electronic hum in the earbuds—it steadies the slump, quiets the noise. We age outside, music keeps the inside young. Partner stress? Plug in, switch off, love yourself through it. What tune lifts your tail? Drop it below—let’s chew the beat.
Death’s shadow looms—ours or theirs—but what if it’s not the end? Thousands, from farmers to surgeons, left their bodies in OBEs and NDEs, saw light, loved ones, peace—not fear. Centuries of stories, studies, YouTube clips whisper: we might keep going. Chew on this—could it steady us? Drop your take below—full riff’s waiting.
Ever catch yourself—or someone—hanging onto a leash that’s all knots? These days, you see it plenty: folks chasing jobs that grind, habits that drag, stuff that just sits there. No hectic world makes us—it’s us, overthinking what’s worth the haul. What’s the one chase you’d ditch for something that steadies you?
I chew on pain—wife’s departure, friend passed—turning it into a wag for others with coffee chats, shared tales, exercise, a sweater. Can you turn your pain into power for someone? Got a story that lifts the pack? Drop it!
Done barking at life’s buzz—now I’m chewing on what keeps us happy. My quality time? 4 a.m., 7-Eleven run—coffee, cake, quiet. Others haunt libraries for history, grow plants like champs, or walk the dog with no rush. What’s yours? Not the big stuff—just what clicks when the noise fades. Drop what steadies you below—full chew’s waiting.
Knocking on the door of my late 50s, it’s more funerals than parties. Not morbid, just math—time just keeps its stride. I’m overthinking it—keeps my tail up. Ditched baggage, friend-zoned gals, simplified. Every stone whispers: enjoy the leash. What’d you drop if it was your last walk? More’s in my chew—check it.
Old dogs, new tricks? Nah, just a fresh coat. Nearing my late 50s, I’ve got this itch—a makeover, not the frenzied world’s kind. Something to shake the dust off. Work’s 90% women—young me got smiles, now they try. A sharper look might help us all. Am I overthinking? What’s your itch when the mirror barks?