I like my stones like I like my lives

Moments ago I was gazing at my latest spirit stone, admiring the fine pinprick holes that shoot through it. It was then I realized I like my stones the way I like people’s lives — I like them with holes in them.

There’s something about a life that’s had some holes blown through it. There’s no pretending when you walk around with a hole in your life. No matter what you must grapple with the hole, and what existence means to you now.

The hole could be awful: ruin, addiction, infidelity. It could be god awful: death of a child, loss of a limb, loss of meaning. It could be so many things.

I had a hole-less life, more or less, until our business foundered. Yes, I had a some difficulties in childhood with alcoholism (not mine), but other than that I was a golden child shooting across the planet on a star. 

Here’s the thing about holes. If you can find exuberance after a hole’s been blown through you, you’ve got life by the whiskers.

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