Much of life feels incremental. The growth of buds in spring, the capacity for a baby to master crawling, healing after a major surgery all creep along with no regard for my impatience. One time I was slogging through directions to a friend's home, back when such things were scribbled on an envelope. It was frustrating to decipher her cryptic landmarks, while avoiding a collision with the cars around me. Emotions vied for my attention- anger, confusion, embarrassment at being lost. 

Then I saw it. The pole next to me proudly held a sign that matched the words on the envelope. I had arrived. I dried my eyes and turned into my friend's driveway. Suddenly all frustration was forgotten in her warm welcome and muffins. 

I recall a time when there was a relationship that I could no longer navigate. Like Winnie the Pooh looking down at his own circular footprints, I repeated the same diatribes over in my mind. It felt impossible to find a way past defensiveness. Being close again seemed a hundred acres away. 

Then we met within the confines of a counseling session. Having stewed for ages, it seemed dubious that we could make progress in sixty minutes. But the questions we posed, and the intention to listen well brought me squarely where I needed to be. I was able to hear how this person felt. Letting down my guard enabled me to see more clearly. 

The thing about walls is, they do protect you. But windows make connection impossible.