Last night my bride fell down a flight of stairs. She’s ok, but it was scary for both of us.
This morning my grandfather undergoes heart surgery after surviving a heart attack several days ago.
Life seems to be made up of edges right now.
Couple of things happened today that made me very grateful for my life and both what and, more importantly, who is in it.
Thinking about the shackles we bind ourselves with, the damage their negativity does, and our deep rooted fear of daring to live without them.
The titular line of this piece came to me years ago in a convoluted notion about how we weaponize our injuries. A conversation with a dear friend had me returning to the line and considering the deeper ramifications of it.
The Everyday Poet 