many years ago, back in the mists of time, i received one of the most constructive criticisms in my entire life from the most unlikely of sources. my particularly hateful, heinous boss (who was later fired after months at the center of a sexual harassment firestorm in the office; actually, the man she was accused of harassing was rather vile himself, but THIS lady took the cake) while denying me a promotion to supervisor offered the following explanation: "you react; you don't respond."

the truth, particularly a truth you are not ready to hear, especially from a source that you are not inclined to hear it from, can knock your shit off balance. after that disappointment, i didn't sleep or eat for days, trying to regain my equilibrium. eventually, i satisfied myself that she was just a bitch that hated me (which she was) and dismissed her criticism as a convenient smoke screen for her true motivations. but, those words, once spoken, never quite leave you.

am i successful all the time at distinguishing my reactions from my responses? no. am i consistently conscious of the distinction? why yes. when life is humming along a safe, satisfactory clip, those distinctions become almost imperceptible. when life takes a detour, all bets are off. the last eighteen months of my life have been a series of major disappointments and minor victories, throwing that gulf between reaction and response into stark relief.

after such a spell of setbacks, missteps, failures and disappointments, a considered period of withdrawal and healing would be in order. yet, here i am, in a brand new place requiring my constant attention, nurturing and focus to turn things around and take advantage of the wealth of opportunities and create the life i deserve. hiding out licking my wounds ain't gonna buy me much these days. but not having that luxury adds some work to keeping that line dividing reaction and response a clear and bright one.

i CAN report that what was once a chasm on par with the grandest of canyons can now be traversed with something approaching the ornateness of the manhattan bridge. delicate, yet sturdy. one day at a time, one foot in front of the other. and that bruise? with the right makeup, you can barely notice it.