Day 13: Yielding

Everyday, on my drive home from work, I eat an apple. A crisp, sweet Fuji apple that has earned its 100-calorie toll. There is something about that first three minutes of my drive -- this unpretensious fruit serves as an unlikely tactile bridge into my world outside of work.

Today, the apple took me to a conversation I had with someone who, on more than one occasion, has mentioned that I am a very guarded person. Today, he mentioned the words 'tightly managed.' I've been mulling those words in my mind, rolling them over my tongue (in between chunks of apple) wondering what is it about them that my mind is not yet ready to let go.

I see visions of prison communities, deadly strains of viruses, a crime scene -- an environment that screams CONTROL (yes, in caps and bold). Tightly managed. Like the cultivation of some kind of super special apple variety that needs to be heavily monitored. Guarded. So the species stays in tact and contained. And pristine.

He may be right. He may be wrong. All I know is this: part of what I set out to do with this challenge is to learn how to yield and to let go. So I will let down my guard and sit in my vulnerability. See how it feels.

For today.