Tell me about when you were little; the hands with which you played in the sand, the food you shunned, the small heartaches and the huge plans. Tell me about a time when you were so sure that you’d grow up big and strong, and what you would and wouldn’t do. Tell me about the grownups, the role models in your fledgling world. Tell me about your home and your place at the kitchen table. Tell me about your first despair, your first triumph. Your very first hero.
Tell me what makes you happy and sad or, better still, what makes you giggle uncontrollably. And when was the last time. Tell me what you’re good and not so good at.
Tell me which faces are forever in your mind, which eyes you love to see. Tell me about your favorite book, the music that makes your heart leap. Tell me what you wanted to be when you grew up and who you wanted to share that with.
Tell me about what’s happened in your life since you played with those hands in the sand. Tell me about the earthquakes that have shaken your existence to the core, the rifts in your heart. Tell me how the light shines through the cracks in your Life, those same cracks from where your teardrops flow. Tell me who has lovingly sealed those cracks with gold paint.
Tell me about the crack called Parkinson’s, what you use to glue it shut. Or who’s gluing it for you. Tell me about the fear that opens that particular crack still wider.
Tell me all that and I’ll show you your Life’s bowl, the bowl brimming with stories about who you are. There is only one bowl with your name on it.
Your very own, fragile bowl. Cherish it, cracks and all. It’s your Life.