The patient says, "Doctor, it hurts when I do this."
The Doctor says, "Then don't do that!"
Somewhere between yesterday's rants, your comments here and in private, a mountain of tears and the long walk I took in the middle of the night, I realized something: the book is being written. Now. As I type this.
I had worked myself into a depression thinking the book was somewhere out there. Somewhere out in some future date, some future time, some future place, other than here; and I had to run to meet it. But it's not. And I don't. The book is here on this blog, in the pages of my journals, sitting in my heart each day. It's in the process of becoming what it is.
I used to have a bookmark that had this quote from Michelangelo:
"I chip away the stone that is not David."
I get it.