The point was not that bandaids actually made anything better, but that they made my kids feel better. It didn’t matter that the skin hadn’t been broken or that the source of their pain was invisible - a bandaid brought comfort.
When my friend’s son (ok, it was Amy’s son) leapt for an interception and landed in the ER, I headed out to lend moral support. Honestly, it was as much for me, to hug Amy and all her kids, and see if I could help. Here’s the rub…it was the local hospital where I spent my career. A little more than half my lifetime so far.
As a heart-opener, camel requires a special element of trust, both in the universe and in the self. It demands a willingness to be vulnerable, to bare the throat and let it hang long and loose. It demands a willingness to expose the heart, to set it free and trust it to fly without fleeing the body.
behind bathroom doors, rumors uttered under breath
Sometimes I rail against the unfairness of it. Why me? Yet the question remains unanswered, the feeling, unproductive. My choice is to carve some meaning out of what is too far past to change.
I didn’t know about the middle. The middle is tricky – a paradox. The in-between is filled with cognitive dissonance and fluctuating desires.
Fifty is not such a big number, at least when talking about dollars or books or even sit-ups. But in terms of years in a lifetime, it takes on greater significance.