All life is, I think, is getting used to the bumps.  Laughing while bumping.  Maybe I should write a book: how to laugh while bumping with others.  That’s all we do, you know.  I’m bumping now (assuming this is being read by others–ha!).  At least bumping up within myself–what to say, how to say it, the inner critic & editor vs. the babbling excitable heart.

Every relationship is a soft bump or a hard bump.  Hard sell salesman seem to bump hard–how do I handle it?  Do I body slam them back, or use one of my trusty tai chi verbal martial arts “ward off” maneuvers.  My staff complains.  Shall I wring their necks, or find a way to guide us to a solution?  My cat yells at me for food.  Do I lovingly talk back and encourage him, or give him a brush-off and say “LATER”! 

We get polished, and/or we bump like billiard balls and knock ourselves across the years out of sight into a dark corner pocket.  We act like roller derby gals, slamming each other down like dominos. 

Or perhaps we dance a nice slow dance.  Hand on someone’s shoulder.  Hand on her waist.  Allowing the music to sway us here and there, step by step.