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In our bodies, we have stories. Stories that live lives of their own. They can wreck havoc and incite joy. Like movie-theater-goers, we buy into these stories. We are the one’s who breathe life into them, who hold their hand and say yes, this is who you and I are. Superstars, vagabonds, soccer moms, corporate executives, farmers, slaves, and whoever else. And I wonder, does the fish tell a story to itself, and do I need to know this story? A halibut fish has two eyes on one side of it’s two-sided body, a bottom-feeder, who tastes well with butternut squash ravioli. I want to ask: As you evolved and sank to the bottom, as your eyes shifted towards the light, you moved down and looked up, what was that like? I want to believe that your story isn’t unlike mine or theirs, that even if we live in the dark, we never forget where the light lives. Who are we suppose to be? Listen to the stories and search for the light, because you and I are not lost.

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