#108wordstories - Trust

Sometimes I find myself looking into the past, wishing I’d been more honest, brave, loving, and connected. (It’s funny how the small bumps in a long, lovely road are the ones that our minds always drive back to.) Then I look at my life now, and am so damn grateful for where and who I am. And I know that every bump in the road, even the ones that brought me to my knees, were somehow part of my flow. So when I catch myself looking backwards down my road, examining the bumps, or ahead, fearing the bumps I know will be there, I remind myself to trust.

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#108wordstories - Puerto Rico

The waves were higher in Condado than I’d expected. They didn’t appear powerful from the shore, but once I was waist-deep in the light blue water it became a constant game of jumping over or diving under. I held my nose but water still crept in, filling my mouth with the taste of brine and salt. The taste didn’t bother me — I love oysters and seaweed and other ocean foods — but the residual puffiness did. Once, I reacted too slowly and was knocked off my feet, tumbled against the rough bottom, sunglasses ripped away. Yet I stayed in the water, because it demanded my full presence.

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