The way of Fluffy
This is our bunny (who ran away). Alas.
I remember a day when two of the girls were fighting. Fighting fighting fighting, all morning long. And then, we sat in the grass with Fluffy. And these same two sisters who had been at odds all day suddenly were shoulder to shoulder.
Fluffy changed things. The atmosphere shifted, the children had something new to give their energy to, together, a distraction from their fighting.
Art is a worthy distraction.
More and more I find myself avoiding the debates. I suppose there was a time when they were helpful but lately they just- aren't.
I am weary of the divisions, the arguments. They make my soul hurt. I don't need any more we and they and them.
I need art.
I need stories and texture and humanity. I need the light in your eyes and the touch of your hand and the contagion of your laugh. Your opinions are fine, but I'd rather hear how you fell in love or what you regret or what does it mean to be saved. Saved? From what?
Tell me about that and I will tell you mine and we will belong to one another and no longer to our opinions.