Sometimes, the fact of being alive comes with a price. Sometimes you’re not thriving, sometimes it’s as much as you can do to come to a place where you can say “I still survive!”

Especially when you live in a society that values youthful good looks over venerating the wisdom that comes with age.

That values skinny ankles encased by sky-high stiletto heels attached to slim legs in clinging pencil skirts. And denigrates cankles in comfy flats topped by chubby legs in wide skirts for example.

But there is a lot to be said for freedom from the pursuit of socially approved prettiness.

You can take large strides in wide skirts and flat comfortable shoes. Over all kinds of terrain. You can run and jump and climb.

And when push comes to shove, you overcome all obstacles, and will be proud to say “I still survive.”

This is me, about five years old. When I’m not sure what I think I’m doing, I sometimes ask myself what she would think about where we are.

I’d like to think she’d look at the scars that criss-cross my body, and say, “Hey that’s awesome! All that and I still survive.”

See more of my Haiku here.