Speak Softly and Carry a Big Stick

My phone died yesterday.  I was supposed to meet my friend at this bar I’d never been at.  I ended up walking the wrong way and came upon this park downtown.  I saw this gorgeous dog and its very friendly owner.  I stopped to chat with her for a bit (and try to get directions) and as destiny should have it; she’s a business owner.

I told her my dream of owning my own business one day (well, one of them) and she was so gracious to offer me some good advice: speak softly and carry a big stick.
I don’t have any tattoos.  I used to date a guy with tattoos (okay maybe there were a couple) and I’d always get asked if I had any.  I don’t.  I always said that I enjoy not being defined by things physically like piercings or tattoos because it allowed me to be more shaman-like: shape-shifting from board rooms to wolf sanctuaries to galas.  I liked being ambiguous and non-definable – there’s power in that.  I realized that from an early age that if others can’t grasp you, they can’t pin anything to you. 
 I’m grateful for having walked a mile out of way into that park last night.

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