For two weeks now, there have only been 2 women at bead class. What is going on? Everyone is tired they tell me.

With 2 women, and Judi and I, the talk turns intimate. I've learned so much about these women's sorrows. Today was the last day for one of the long termers. She goes on to prison for six months. She's scared; she's heard the stories. But I tell her she'll be ok. She talks about how she was in a jail in Chicago not too long ago and how tough that was. She had to fight to keep people from harassing her (or worse) . I'm sorry, she said, sometimes you have to fight to keep them away from you. Nonviolent me--who am I to tell her otherwise? I've never, and I hope I never have to walk in her shoes. Wouldn't I do the same? The talk turns now, about how the hardest thing is to love oneself. I understand that one--I talk about the books I've been reading, how if we learn to love ourselves first, we'll be better at loving others. Easy words...hard to do.