Adjust your shoulder. Breathe through the stitch in your side. Look up at the horizon, even if it’s blurry.
That pottery is caminando .
You will not walk straight. You will drag one leg. You will favor the left side. People will notice. Let them. A limp is a map of where you have been. It is honest. The only gait that is truly broken is the one that refuses to move at all.
The lone wolf is a myth. The wounded walker finds a wall, a friend, a walking stick, a prayer. Leaning is not weakness; it is physics. Distribution of weight keeps the wounded upright. Call the friend. Accept the help. The trail is long.
This is the geography of the herido pero aún caminando —the wounded who refuse to become the fallen. We live in a culture obsessed with two states: total victory or absolute defeat. You are either crushing it or being crushed. You are either healthy or hospitalized. You are either happy or broken.
And take one more step.
But what about the pottery that is still cracked and leaking a little water? What about the pottery that is sitting on the shelf, glued but fragile, wondering if it will ever hold flowers again?
