Once I knew a strongman who could rip porcelain sinks out of concrete walls. He had a temper, too. One day he lost it so bad he tore apart fire hydrants and took down iron lampposts. Much to the chagrin of the police he was impervious to the pain of billy clubs and the sting of pepper spray. So twenty cops bravely tackled him to the ground and took him to a jail. But that night, with the guards asleep, he easily spread open the prison bars, slipping into the freedom of the night.
I hadn't heard from him for years. Then a postcard arrived. He says he lives on a tropical island of tranquility. Gentle tribes people have assuaged his turbulent soul. Now he loves a beautiful woman who has calmed his angry heart. And in a turquoise sea he sees his Maker. I am jealous of a man who is both strong and newly at peace with the world.