Where am I?

So I woke up this morning (like, 2am) thinking about Dennis Wholey's observation that  expecting the world to treat you fairly because you are a good person, is like expecting a bull not to charge because you are a vegetarian.   I first read this when I was twelve, and it just burned straight from my eyes into my brain as a very wise thing to remember.

Anyway, turning this over in my mind, I hit the commuter lanes at 5:30 for a thoughtful drive to the Presidio.  I like to arrive a little early to admire the people working out.  They make all that lifting and push-ups seem so easy.  I can't wait to be reincarnated as an amazon (or an amazon painter.)  I think I was once a bellicose Bedouin fighter.  But possibly, as said fighter, I was arrogant, and so was reincarnated deliberately as a weeny-sized woman to get some perspective.  If so, it has totally worked because while I fiercely admire strength, skill and determination, I am totally in love with belly dancing, cute bras, pancakes, and watching otters play. 

But I digress.

So today Kelly worked on that first rib so hard (using both thumbs) that I thought my left eyeball was going to explode.  My stomach (in a gesture of solidarity for my flaming eye) nearly tossed the 4:30am bacon & eggs onto Kelly's shoes (but that is  a waste of good bacon.)   He did listen kindly to my whingeing and then promptly squeezed all the stress out of me.
Kelly wrested a new range of movement out of my shoulder while he told me stories of dancing around drinking pisco in Chile, of using a Chinese network to get his passport renewed, and of future travels to a Russian Bath House.

By the time he was done, I not only had new shoulder mobility, but also some new mental mobility:
 I have an existential map; it has ‘you are here’ written all over it. -Steven Wright.

Good friends make sure you don't get lost.