Tucson tear

I went to a workshop and a woman spoke of her brush with death. As she talked about the ordeal and the many feelings she had about her situation and relationships with the people around her, I found tears running down my face. At that moment I knew something had given inside and I would not be the same after that.

Maybe it was compassion for her because I knew, or maybe it was just identification and an understanding of what was coming down the pike. All I know is it was ok. I am not alone as my fractured thinking has led me to believe. Theres power in that.