He Despised His Body For Its Boring

The Music Was More Than Music - At Least What We Are Used To Hearing. The Music Was Feeling Itself. The Sound Connected Instantly With Something Deep And Joyous.

The Story Comes Around, Pushing At Our Brains, And Soon We Are Trying To Ravel Back To The Beginning, Trying To Put Families Into Order And Make Sense Of Things. But We Start With One Person, And Soon Another And Another Follows, And Still Another, Until We Are Lost In The Connections.

I Want To Hear What's Happened To You," She Said Evenly After A While. She Gestured In The Direction, Down River, Of The Butcher Shop. "it's Just That There Is Nowhere Else To Start," She Said Gently. "niether Of Us Is The Same. But I'm Different Because Of Small, Good, Manageable Things. You're Different Because ... Things I Don't Know.

But Then As Time Passed, I Learned The Lesson That Parents Do Early On. You Fail Sometimes. No Matter How Much You Love Your Children, There Are Times You Slip. There Are Moments You Can't Give, Stutter, Lose Your Temper, Or Simply Lose Face With The World, And You Can't Explain This To A Child.

In Our Own Beginnings, We Are Formed Out Of The Body's Interior Landscape. For A Short While, Our Mothers' Bodies Are The Boundaries And Personal Geography Which Are All That We Know Of The World...once We No Longer Live Beneath Our Mother's Heart, It Is The Earth With Which We Form The Same Dependent Relationship, Relying...on Its Cycles And Elements, Helpless Without Its Protective Embrace.