I’m writing from a vantage point far from my usual position of repose. It’s a time of reflection, and yet a bit of silent screaming is finding a way into the crevices of a glued-together outer shell. Ouch, that doesn’t feel very good.
Transitions can stretch us until we feel almost broken as we pretend to shake our leg free from the grip of something we can’t quite put words around. But even when facing the pain of a situation, a jovial thought can sneak in that shows us our ability to handle anything.
My thought at the time of this writing just happened to be Gumby in all his green, rubbery glory. Gumby has one leg pinched and stretched too far to be comfortable. Not good. But then a slow smile crept onto my face as I remembered that I can bend him, pull him into shape and smooth out his distress.