While Walking: Cookie Cutters

As I write, my dog struggles to keep her perch on the back of the couch as she gazes out at the snowy ground. Just yesterday we managed to walk half a block before her paws had collected enough snow that the clinging icicles caused her to limp her way home. 

As for me, the boxes of my father’s things, stacked and waiting for some rainy day, finally got my attention and I began the task of sorting in earnest. The process gained a momentum of it’s own and I began sorting my own photos and old journals and files. 

I leave you with a short ditty I unearthed, written in the middle of a significant transition in my life. This piece was inspired by one of many opportunities to examine old habits and conditioning from early years.   

Cookie Cutters

Bend it, fold it, shape it. 
Make your life fit the
cookie cutter your parents
gave you for Christmas
when you were ten
too young to know what
it meant to think
for yourself, hold
on so tightly you
go about with notions
of how life should be never
knowing you could be
more content with less
rigid ideas of how things
might be—bend your life, 
shape the path, fold
the past. And, leave
open the door to possibility. 

Kim Cottrell