Hearing someone else give a vista of one’s life is very illuminating. The things we do are in compartments which keep us singularly unconscious. [. . .] When they do come together there is a conflagration.
After breakfast, I complain about people’s rudeness and their insensitivity, invoking a gentler, kinder, more respectful world in which everyone is as kind, sweet, and mindful of others as I. Later that day, in the kitchen, my husband extends his hand to gently touch my shoulder and get my attention. In the middle of making […]