Living A Loved Life. Dawna Markova, PhD

while turning to face him, knowing it was the last time I’d have a chance to hug him. But all I could allow myself to do was mumble, “Thank you very much, Dr. Erickson.” I walked out slowly and slid the door closed behind me.

      As I took a step away from the house, I noticed he had wheeled over to that door. Sliding it open, he called me in that gravelly one-of-a-kind voice of his and said, “Dawna…” I stopped in my tracks, sure he was going to reach out and hug me. Instead, slowly, oh so slowly, he slid the door closed and as he did so, said, “Never create limitations…where…there are no limitations given!”

      I heard a click as he locked the door and wheeled away.

In Pursuit of the Dangerously Possible

      Each time I think I have learned to open my mind and widen my attention, Life gives me another opportunity to practice thinking beyond the habitual limitations I create for myself. On the day of this story, I was standing next to two people who I assumed were father and daughter. Antonio’s hair was silver, his olive skin tanned and weathered with creases in the corners of his amber eyes. The word “elegant” came to mind immediately, though I can’t say why. Carolina was almost impossibly beautiful, with high cheekbones, flawless skin, and gleaming chestnut hair. As she moved across the veranda, her hands gestured toward the leather couch, inviting me to sit. She was lithe, sleek, as green-eyed as a jungle cat.