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  • Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold
    -- William Butler Yeats

    Today I'm looking for the center of my heart.

    I work at THAT university (yes, that one). Lately I feel angry much of the time -- angry at the haters, angry with the supporters, angry about perceived lies. Angry.

    The anger is riddling my heart with corrosion. This is not how I want to live my life.

    So today I am looking for the center of my heart in an effort to patch the corrosion.

    God's center is everywhere, but God has no circumference. Yet I'm not sure even God can find the center of my heart. It feels scattered to the wind.

    At meeting, Quakers center themselves -- quieting the shrieks and moans and roars of the outside world in order to hear that Voice, that Light Within.

    If my heart was a candle, it would be guttering in its socket, the flame flattening almost to the point of going out, a wild dance of near extinction, throwing shadow monsters across the crumbling walls.

    Things fall apart.

    Hearts fall apart.

    Anger corrodes.

    Hearts explode.

    I am not the person I want to be.

    I am not the person I need to be.

    And today I am looking for the center of my heart.
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