100 Words: Yes. Change Is Gonna Come.

I’ve got the sweetest pair of summer sandals, strappy and black, a classy landing for any set of toes or heels headed for a crossroad, contemplating change — such perfect support for standing still or moving forward, wandering or making a beeline, walking confidently into a new life. 

Shall we, for a moment, consider this amazing “little black sandal” flexibility?

The brilliance of these beauties is their dance of versatility.  A morning walk through bright lilies, say, followed by a deliciously dark silk evening.

You’re changing again? Oh, thank you, these little shoes say, with a deep welcome.

Such wise shoes. 

 

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100 Words: Simple Love

The longer I live, the simpler I get. Things are clearer, faster. Not much matters except love — for myself, for others.

Why for myself?

My capacity to love me is the cap on how much I’m able to love you. It would have to be. And yes, loving the self takes practice. Awareness. A lifetime.

Self-critical moments are ever-available, arriving promptly, dressed in starched collars, ready to work, should we call on them to speak, offer authority.

To improve any relationship, love your cobweb corners, and that time you couldn’t fly. Hold your own hand, walk gently into your day.

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100 Words: Tom Brady and Me

In an interview with New England Patriot quarterback Tom Brady, he declared himself spiritual, curious about life and why we’re alive. His body is his asset. He takes conscious care of it. Loves his Brazilian wife Gisele and three children. Loves football.

Did you know? He was a last pick — too tall and skinny, weak arm, couldn’t throw a tight spiral – but wanted to play. Eventually, he surpassed all expectations, lead the Patriots to eight Super Bowl appearances, five wins.

This gives me such hope. I’ve practiced writing since my young years — maybe I’m just now finding my tight spiral.

 

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100 Words: Come See Me

I’m missing you, my dear. How about a short visit, what could it hurt? How nice it would be if you walked in the door! Why not get back into your skin and come see me? We’ll catch up.

I wonder how that would work exactly. Would you return as your whole new self, or as your former?

It’s an excellent question, which I will pose tomorrow morning when I awaken. Will I open my eyes as my new self that day or drag along the usual suspects?

See? I learn so much from you and you’re not even “here.”

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100 Words: Teach Me, O Death, About Love

Don’t inform someone (whose loved one has died) about death. Don’t imply all is well or that time will heal. Don’t even be sorry.

Be with her, yes. But let death do the teaching.

Don’t assure a grieving woman her soulmate is still close. At first, she won’t believe you. Might punch you. Might send a gut-wrenching wail through your sorry bones.  

Instead, let the veiled one reach. Let him touch, speak to her. Let him show he’s available, still loving. She’ll fall to her knees holding her heart and understand everything.

Nature, motherhood, death. Three teachers of deepest love.

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Terri Crosby

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