deviousways

Some days ago, I had what you might call, a meltdown. I went from anger to intense anguish in moments. I worked myself up into a frenzy. I wanted to lash out at my family. Hurl words that would wound and scar. I wanted to hurt myself.. Physically harm my own self or something/someone else. I wanted to break things,something... Anything would do, I felt, at that moment. Just to cope with the heaving emotions inside. Just so I could make sense of what I was feeling. So, I shouted at my loved ones. At my son for something he did or didn't do. At my husband for slights real and imagined. For angry words we have exchanged over the years. For everything we have ever done to each other. Then, I shut myself up in a room Immersed myself in all that was and is torn and tormented inside And I cried my heart out. I ended up with a migraine that day. But later, when I calmed down, I felt better. But more than that, I found that my family still loves me. My young son s...

Shared a ride with a spider the other day. Didn't want to, actually. Just didn't spy it (him? her? well, not sure), in time, else I'd have vaulted out. Still, now that we were together, I was forced to acknowledge this other presence. And forced to, for once, actually observe a spider in action. Each time our auto swerved--and believe you me there were potholes aplenty on our route-- spider would swing precariously on an unbelievably thin thread. The auto went right, spider swung left. The auto braked hard, spider was flung up, furiously. Cars honked, cyclists tottered dangerously close, other autos trundled past at breakneck speed. But spider didn't get dislodged. Spider didn't perish. That silken thread was pulled tortuously taut more than once, but it didn't break. And spider's balance never slipped. Watching this most un-comely of creatures perform a tightrope dance to survive in our urban jungle, fascinated me. Spider's confidence that it...