Danny wished he could have an ordinary, worry-free day just like those people, without the weight of someone’s life on his shoulders. Just a few days ago, he was living like anybody else in the country- running errands and minding his own business. As the taxi steadily flowed along with the other cars on the freeway, he knew that today was no ordinary day. And by the end of the day, things could get ugly.
Being an effective mentor means becoming a co-conspirator, a fellow explorer, a chaser of clues.
This week is all about my kids. I’m pretty crazy about them (weird, right?) and Squish turned six months old yesterday, so I figured this week was the perfect one to highlight what I’m personally doing to be a better parent and what they’re reading to give some ideas for those with kiddos.
From my vantage, all I could see were the five attic windows protruding from the slope of the convent roof – two left of center and three on the right. (Blame my father for teaching me to always notice symmetry.) One shutter had become detached and was hanging loosely, rattling in the wind.
I watched the shutter methodically flap open and snap shut again, but the man’s dead blue eyes stained my mind. What had happened to him? A car accident? The rhythm of the knocking wood put me into a meditative state. y tears stopped, and my breathing evened. The claps gradually became louder and louder, drawing my focus back to the window.
A rusty smell pinched my nostrils, and only then did I realize the cut in my palm was now bleeding profusely. I untied the sash from around my waist and wrapped it tightly around my hand. Back less than a day and I already have two injuries. Dad is going to freak. I silently mourned the death of the Chanel as the blood soaked through it.
Sweat dripped down my back. Gross. I tugged at my now-damp dress and wiped the tears from my face with the back of my bandaged hand, all the while watching the attic window. The heat was incredible, rippling down my torso in waves, almost feverish. Was it wrong to pray for a cool front, I wondered, staring at the convent. Maybe just a little breeze? The shutter snapped back shut. Something bothered me about it…and then I realized what it was.
I stopped and stood perfectly still. There was no breeze; the air was dead. The shutter flapped back open and snapped shut again, as if demanding my attention.
“How did you know you were depressed?”
“How does anyone know they’re depressed? You feel equally alive and dead and have no idea how that’s even possible. And everything around you doesn’t seem so full anymore. And you can’t tell if the world is empty or you are. That’s how I knew. I realized it wasn’t the world that was empty.”
Before you judge my post by my title, these books do not read like typical self-help books. And they are really really good. So Tally-ho, let’s go! Let’s talk relationships.