The title is somewhat deceptive.
When I think about "fierce" right now ... it alternately looks like my grandmother, standing in front of the school she would now call her home or the little lion cub they made swim across the pool to make sure it could.
As Sade softly sings in my ear, "you're gonna need a bullet-proof soul."
The thing is children (and maybe lion cubs) are resilient, pliable even, they bend and survive big and small crises. Somewhere along the way, we start to harden and either our actual ability or our perceived ability to survive diminishes. I certainly saw this in my tough-as-nails dad when he was here visiting. And when I am very honest, I see it in myself too.
Maybe it is that the older we get the more our memories of the hard times wear on us. We remember too well what it feels like to be in the valley. We have a hard time remembering that there is a way out, or that we have the skills to climb out ... or just that the fog will lift, eventually.
So, fierce, is more like the lion cub or the 8 year old orphan. Fearless in a way because they don't know better; determined in a way that survival demands.
Working to recover that sense of fierce in my life. I don't think it's too late.
Feel me?
There are some pics of the lions' swim test here, but none are quite as good as the one I saw on latimes.com.
Meds and Greens
21 hours ago
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