bricks.

A coworker (and fellow What About Bob? enthusiast) and I used to cast knowing glances at one another on particularly rough days. If we were close enough to be within earshot, one of us would inevitably say to the other: Baby step down the stairs... Baby step out of the office...

Because that's what it is, right? Baby steps, one thing at a time, day by day, moment by moment... whatever you call it, that's how life goes.  Like Leslie says, We'll collect the moments one by one; I guess that's how the future's done.*

But all of those little life-isms seem way too positive right now. Collecting moments makes me envision Sleeping Beauty out gathering berries into her basket while singing with the birds. I'm not dealing with berries. With every anxiety-laden baby step, I'm collecting bricks. Cumbersome, unwieldly bricks. Rough to the touch and heavy on the heart. It is and will be hard, toiling work. But eventually they will get laid. Something will get built. Brick by brick.

And just ask any little pig; it's the strenuous work and strong bricks that will keep you safe from life's wolves. 

*Ever since I typed that line ALL I can hear in my head is "My best friend Leslie says, 'She's just bein' Miley!'" Now you'll hear it, too. You're welcome.