Reticence, resignation, surgery. Then Rest. That being, six very uncharacteristic
weeks of limited mobility, crocheting, a couple of pints of haagen-dazs and a marathon of Downton Abbey.
Then comes the call, “Would you paint a sun for me?” Free to move, you are glad for reason to learn to walk again.
Then comes another call. “Would you help us build a school in
Central America?” Now there’s no need for walking lessons. You realize that you are dancing, a full circle mandala dance.
Happy Spring. Indeed.
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