Today, I found a truth, or, more likely, it found me. I read the Cold Antler Farm blog, and Jenna wrote, "A zen monk once told me... 'When I get frustrated. I meditate. For the first ten minutes it is like being stuck in a phone booth with a crazy person. The next ten minutes, with a therapist. The last ten minutes: with me.'"
Right now, I'm stuck in a phone booth with a crazy person. Today is Dad's birthday. Some years it doesn't bother me, and some years it does. Today it punched me in the chest, then grabbed my throat and squeezed. My feelings about my dad are complicated in the same way that the U.S. tax code is complicated. I'm not interested in explaining it or analyzing it or even thinking all that much about it. I've done all that, and I'll do it again when I need to.
Today, though, I need to stand in the phone booth and wait for myself.