the shrinking self
My boys like to play tag. For the moment I can still outrun them. One of our favorite spots to play is a green space in our neighborhood. It’s an odd-shaped, grassy lot that narrows on both ends. My boys have the habit of running to one of the corners at the field’s edge. They think they’re creating distance from me, but they’re really only painting themselves into a corner. I give them room to roam; and then when they think they’re safe and far away, I close in. Rather than escaping, they realize that their world has shrunk.
revised living
I have a somewhat obsessive behavior when it comes to writing down anything lengthy on paper. I hate making a mistake. Fighting the compulsion to rewrite every word (rather than scratching out a few errors), I endure the look of a messy page.
Lately, I’ve been wrestling with the desire to “erase” some difficult issues in the circumstances around me.…
