Working to master the role and tasks of caregiving, I worked to master me. Vulnerability led me to a new community. By crossing bridges and taking steps out of my foggy disorientation, I recognized the spiritual food in my new community. I tasted it.
Soon I uttered unspoken thoughts I dared not to speak in the past. Acceptable to my new community, I felt relief. Free from my mind’s prison. Free from ruminating—days, weeks, months marching to and fro, round and round, in madness. I have a safe place now. To speak. To understand. To learn and grow. That’s worth something. Maybe more than something.