Thursday, January 27, 2011

bouncing back

Some weeks come at you both barrels, packing a double dose of disappointment. Twenty-twenty hindsight kicks in. Bitter pills of regret are swallowed. Bile rises up. And there's no way around it except straight through it. Which feels pretty bad. Wallowing in it is exactly what I want to do. Until I don't. Until I am ready to let myself to fall into the soft pillow of comfort provided by others, both known and unknown, and by life itself. I hear my mom saying "Rise above it." A certain angel picks me up and dusts me off, providing clarity and encouragement. Coffee and a plate-size cookie appear on my desk at work. The sun comes out. Perspective returns. While taking a basket of laundry down to the basement, I spy an old jumprope. Sometimes happiness skips a few beats. Then comes bouncing back.

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