I bruise very easily. Sometimes at the end of the week I take stock of them. Some I remember the moments thinking “that’s going to bruise”.
Some I don’t have a clue how they got there.
While examining the most recent collection of bruises (from two marathon days of gym climbing) I was thinking that even though I may never make a mark on this world, at least the world is making its mark on me. Is it weird to be comforted by the fact that when I press on things, they press back?
Or put another way, in the wise words of this Garth Brooks song
Life is not tried it is merely survived
If you’re standing outside the fire
Don’t avoid the world because you will get hurt. Go through it knowing the hurt is worth it.