A friend stopped by the office today.
Friendly chit chat was had.
Catching up is always a nice reprieve from the daily.
I noticed a wedding band.
He was all smiles when he shared the story
of his fall destination matrimony week
and gorgeous pictures
of a gorgeous young couple
before a gorgeous backdrop of sunsets and ocean waves.
The title of husband suits him as if he always was.
We talked briefly about business,
the thing that introduced us to one another.
He asked about my kids.
About how life was going.
And then we dwelled a few minutes in greens
and rice
and blueberries with almond butter
and foods that make you feel good
and bad.
It reminded me of how when I was a little girl,
barely a child old enough to voice my likes and disdains,
I knew there were just certain foods
I didn’t want to eat.
Like ice cream.
And cheese.
And watermelon.
And bananas.
I couldn’t have explained to you why not at the time.
I just knew they were not good for me.
Fast forward to my adulthood when I paid good money to find out that I
(me, myself personally)
should not eat
nor melons
and surely not bananas
and a whole list of other things that since my childhood
I just knew I shouldn’t eat
because they were not good for me
(myself, personally).
I just knew.
Growing up, my nurse-by-trade mother said there was no way I was allergic to any of those things.  That it was all in my mind.
But I knew when I was younger what I should and should not do
(as pertains to eating certain things)
but somehow when I was older
the busyness of the world made me forget how much I knew,
all by myself,
what was good for me
and what was not.

Enter:  Lightbulb.

My friend and I were still engaged in conversation,
though quietly I questioned in my own skin
and in my mind
and more so in my heart:
Is this what is meant by a child-like faith?
Just knowing, and not questioning?
just because it’s something I
(me, myself personally)
know to be true
and so?

I used to know stuff.
But as I’ve aged, I am not so certain about many things.
I listen to the opinions of others.
I watch the news.
I peruse the internet.
I read (too many) magazines.
I let life’s chatter exhaust me
and confuse me
and leave me unsure of
the smart person
I used to be
when I
was a




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