English

Picked up some on call time and remembered what I liked about being dropped into these complicated, heart-wrenching, twilight zonish scenarios in the middle of the night with the task of making some kind of sense of them and helping a person begin to find their way through a crisis before I burned out entirely. 

A monk said to me, "To love without knowing how to love wounds the person we love".

A voice on the telephone. Such clear blue eyes. 

My nervous system, I'm trying to calm it down. I'm trying to release what's embedded and interwoven in my tissues. I'm trying to look with clarity upon how I forged an identify out of my experience of suffering and rejected a lot of goodness along the way as a result. I'd like to think I might still become someone else.

I'm also trying to keep in mind how puny my sufferings are in the scheme of things. Worthy of my time only if I can transmute them into something that propels me forward. 

I put new sheets on the bed last night. That's a step in the right direction.