swing

justin timberlake takes a swing

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt.
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.
.... from Casey at the Bat By Ernest Lawrence Thayer

yesterday held some challenges for me. i had to wade through some emotional gunk that i really wasn't in the mood for. but it happened anyway. i stood at the plate and when the pitch came in, i hesitated for a while before i swung. i can't tell you whether it was a hit, a foul, or a strike. and i'm not sure that matters, really.

for me, the important story is the swing of the bat. to tell the truth about how i felt. to be thoughtful and honest. to set a boundary with someone and say no this doesn't work for me. i have lived years afraid to take that chance. i have avoided taking my turn at bat, or i have tried to play ball while loaded so i wouldn't have to encounter that solitude waiting for the pitch and then deciding what action to take.

one more step in my jagged road to recovery...

swing!

a sound choice today is by dire straits... "sultans of swing"