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21 June 2002 (Friday): mum's the word

I am browsing through old emails, cutting thin stinging lines in my skin with the razor of typewritten words. Ow. Ow. But maybe there's a lesson here somewhere. Maybe this is surgery. No anesthesia for this kind of medicine, though: you just have to shut your eyes and keep your breathing steady.

Tomorrow, hopefully, answers come.

My humble thanks to every painful moment in my past. There is no greater teacher. As much as anything else, you've made me who I am.

Feliz fin de semana.

posted by enjelani @ 07:40 PM PST

Replies: 2 comments

Nice metaphor.

Well, many a divot chipped into your soul hurts when first carved. And it's not until after much carving is done that you see yourself taking shape, after so many years. Especially if you're a complex shape ;)

What I fear is not knowing how far along the Shaper has come in whittling down who I am. In the end, I'll have to trust everyone else to tell me whether or not it's a beautiful thing.

posted by m. mellow @ 21 06 2002 11:37 PM PST

And a different method of shaping for each purpose. I have come to enjoy erosion...there is no better way to age. :)

posted by Moonpuddle @ 24 06 2002 09:06 AM PST