There are no buttons on the shoulder of our shirts, that we can tap and Scottie will beam us up, no magic transporters. As happens so often in our rush, our pain, our desire to escape or simply find a moment to breathe, we overshoot the mark. It is not the shoulder we need to tap. It is the heart and with the tap, the gentle pressure of our hand, believe.
About Me
- Beth Chapman
- Owatonna, Minnesota, United States
- I have begun a path, though I know not where, to a journey’s end that is calling. Along the way I pause to absorb the metaphors and images of this life, which are so precious. Here you shall find me brave, you shall find me pondering, you shall find me searching, and you shall find me collecting the images and metaphors like shells upon the beach. I am very much like the little monkey wearing a dapper hat, playing the cymbals and drum and dancing a jig. I do not have it all figured out, I may be learning to write, but one thing I do know and that is how to collect the shells on the beach of my beloved Gulf Shores. I offer these shells to you.
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