Why is it that with other people around me I can feel utterly alone, but when it was just me taking walks in nature I felt surrounded in love and beauty? When I was more isolated in natures embrace I felt less alone than at my own home… am I really that broken? I can find a little bit of relief in looking at those pictures I gathered back when I could still walk 30 to 60 minutes without batting an eye. Now as my body twists in pain and weighs heavy with fatigue I am lucky to walk ten feet from the car to the bridge entering one of my favorite parks. But those birds singing and the rushing water are like a warm embrace of an old friend. My chair with family scattered to opposite corners of the house feels like a padded cell locking me out of life. As the isolation grows so does the depression. Finally I wander to seek another human’s contact and feel the empty greetings of them being interrupted in the game they are playing or video they are watching. Maybe I am meant to take flight, far away, soaring into the skies? But my wings are clipped and I feel tethered to this existence of loneliness in life. I only find brief moments of freedom – an occasional shared laugh or a short conversation about more than what is for dinner – that give me hope. A hope that maybe I can slowly file that chain off my ankle and find a step or two each day towards believing that I belong and am no longer the discarded one…. alone in the corner.