Where do you go when resentment, its steely grip a vise around your mind, your heart, tells you you are safe here protected here, and love, a brilliant thing, lies covered, discarded on the floor? Battered and bruised, we keep moving, our feet upon the bumpy path. But pick it up now, put on what was lost, wear it over one shoulder and another so, for the first time, with eyes open now, you can see. This post appeared originally at jenniferjcamp.com
