Optional
I sit in my car. I pull my hair back into the familiar tight ponytail – my head immediately bracing for the tension. I reach for my mask.
Today I have a choice.
Today is optional.
Today I will see full faces.
Today I will see smiles, frowns, and surprise.
Today is a milestone in the almost two-year journey.
I search my heart. I listen to my brain. I shush my wants. I listen to my needs - my cracked lips preparing to be shut in all day.
Today I wear my mask.
Today is optional.
Today I will see a sea of colors and patterns.
Today I will sense expression through eyes.
Today is one day within an ambiguous itinerary.
I put on my mask. I walk toward the building. I see a mix – neither half-full nor half-empty. The day begins.
Today is optional.
Thank you, Betsy, Beth, Deb, Kathleen, Lanny, Melanie, and Stacey for this weekly forum. Check out the writers, readers, and teachers here.
