Yet, pushing upward and onward, I find myself choking on the thinning air where the heat rises. More breaths are taken from me than I can seem to find.
My sisters and I watched it for years. It made us angry, so we chose emotionally damaged boy/men at early ages. They divorced theirs. I stayed. And left.
I must face my shadow side if I am to evolve into what the Bodhisattva poet-warrior of loving kindness 7th-century Buddhist monk Shantideva describes below.