I’m thinking about the moment where there was a clear before and after. Not in the sense of the dramatic accident or big fire, but rather, the smaller moment which casts its long shadow. The time the mean girls laughed at you cuz of your home-made haircut. The dance teacher who poked your belly swollen by the beans you ate last night. Your teammates who gave you the silent treatment on the long ride home from the game cuz of your sloppy pitch. Sure, you move on, but a piece of you dies. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a baseball player, a ballerina or a world-class scientist. Maybe, other small moments of praise and contained applause will have to be enough.