Things have happened. Some of them I'm happy about, some I'm sad about, some I'm not proud about, some I can live with, and the rest I'm still processing. I think about mirrors, about how, I've been told, what you don't like in another person is usually what you don't like in yourself. I think about radical authenticity, about how difficult it is, this business of going for truth and transparency and showing up as yourself in a body that is filled with fear in a world that may not be patient enough to understand. I think about my relationships, about relating, about the people I've kept close, the people who chose to lose me, and the people I've been glad to lose. I think about harsh words people have for each other, harsh words I've used against people and harsh words that have been used against me. I think about how, beneath those harsh words, we really know nothing about each other, and that maybe, just maybe, if I saw that part of you that ea