feeling

When I'm afraid, I immediately look for a talisman. I think, April, are the earrings you're wearing enough to protect you? Today I'm wearing the earrings I share with my best friend (although she's worn them once and I've worn them over and over because of the weight of them, because of the dark red color). I guess they will help, and I am glad I have that curved piece of wood I carry around in my purse. Three, or was it four? summers ago while camping with my family I tried to whittle with my dad's pocketknife. I told them I was making a duck. It ended up just a smooth half-circle. Light, grained, and comforting. I have kept it in my purse ever since. Once, not for me, I was in the ER all night, and I held on to that duck. My other instinct, after looking around for something to hold on to, something with enough significance to cast a shadow big enough to hide in, is to flood my ears with music. Right now I want Fernando Ortega. These days he is one of the very, very few Christian bands/singers I don't automatically skip when they appear on my mp3 player. I will always listen to his voice. And he will calm me down. I am sitting here at my desk, earbuds in, the duck sitting in front of the keyboard. I am saying, to the air, I guess, that I am going to be ok.