of monsters and mercy and me….

I’ve dreamed it since I was young,  this recurring fright: I’m at the beach with my family when suddenly I’m standing on bare sand that is sloping madly toward the sea and a monstrous black wave is towering over me….towering…..and I’ve no time,  not a second,  to run. And I don’t know how I got there….the waves were…

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tired or true….

What if our tiredness is a picture of our true-ness, our wellness,  a story of our you-ness? Want to join me in a ponder? “When I repress my emotions, my stomach keeps score….” -John Powell ( a gross oversimplification,  of course ……..always, always there are exceptions and complexities; but I’m wondering if more of our fatigue and un-wellness than we realize…

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