Experience: The Great Professor

I tell her to always wear a helmet. No matter what.

"Nothing bad will happen Mom!"


Last night Experience spoke to her louder than a mothers nagging tongue.

"I think from now on I need to wear my helmet."

Instead of saying "I told you so!" I let Experience do what it does. It teaches in perfect timing. It tills the soil of our hearts to bring us to a point where our eyes and ears are churned up enough to receive the seed it plants. Hopefully this one will grow for her.


I gave her a hug and said "Lets take pictures!" I laughed as I was clicking away. She laughed too, but only because my laughter is contagious. "Mom! I just got hit by a car, and your laughing!" I looked at these pictures and what I saw was a broken neck, broken legs and a child lying paralyzed in a hospital room. I saw me standing over her casket threatening to kill her a second time by drowning her in my tears. How could I not laugh with joy at the reality right in front of me.

"Sometimes" I said, "when you realize how alive you are, you have to laugh at death." She laughed even harder.



These skinned up knees remind me how important it is to take a risk and live from the heart. Life is short.