…with the key thrown away — my choice, that is. I use to think if I made a choice I had to live with it — that there was no turning back. That if I changed my mind it meant I was inferior. That if I selected one thing, that that was that and that was the end of of it. Which often meant it was the end of me. At least until I learned, shall I say, that I could restart. Make a new choice. And if that didn’t fit well, make another choice. And another if need be. Of course changing my mind rarely happens but how freeing to know I have not sealed my life off in stone.