It’s the story where my toes can dig deeply into the sands of a glorious land called normal. A land I didn’t design but one where I’m allowed to nod in agreement before any changes occur. And I can veto all circumstances that don’t look right, feel right, or smell right. My lungs inhale fresh gusts of predictability and the wind is always a gentle breeze. Never unstable or stormy and certainly not brutal or destructive.
