The only gift is a portion of thyself. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
Last week I climbed into a big red bus for my first-ever (voluntary) blood-letting. The mobile lab had been showing up like a stalker in the parking lots of places I frequented, and as repelled as I am by needles, I felt myself being wooed to part with some of my precious red stuff. When I read an email announcing it would be on the campus where I work, I made an appointment.
“I have always believed, and I still believe, that whatever good or bad fortune may come our way we can always give it meaning and transform it into something of value.” ― Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha
I recently lost a friend. Not in the physical sense, but emotionally.
The fault is mine. I misconstrued our relationship; I felt a level of trust and openness with X that was not reciprocated. She sent me a message intimating I'd crossed boundaries and stating I knew nothing [about her.] That last part must be true, since I was caught unawares and left feeling chastised, hurt, and angry. I didn't respond. The note had been carefully crafted, words and phrases deliberately chosen. It didn't invite discussion. So I let my emotions roll around like marbles inside me until the passing of some time lessened the sting.