Today a woman I worked with died. so I wanted to write about it.  but at first I wrote about myself… because I am so self centered.

The law of unintended virtue.  If by fear or lack of self respect we are humble, lacking, stopping to smell the roses or stare fleetingly at
rare birds or watch something unfold

we see a lost distance, a measure of completeness. the fear becoming grief and loss temperamental anger.

The anger rolling on deck like a loose barrel of hateful monkeys, hurling poo and banana peels and the damp ends of cigarettes
This is the edgeful blossom of my humility
We ask for and receive gentle kisses from our children if we space out or reaching for a time to calm our smoldering inferno to toss some water to watch it hiss at us spiteful snake it is
This hoarding of my kindness

If I triumph over any of it - the caricature of distinct and diabolical self immolating humility it will be because I ask for and finally get a drink
of water.  What good is ministering to a dead parent to a corpse unburried pretending to be up and about playing chess and arguing about distinct possibilities.

I think of andyour picture the one of the hamster and the frightened look.  I can understand sometimes what it feels like what it means to put yourself in a cage to behave properly gingerly