Every Saturday I drag myself out of bed to join my 8:00 am walking group for a six-mile hike.  Though my body protests, my soul insists it knows what's good for it.  And it's always right.

This past Saturday, as we stood catching our breaths while gazing out at the lake, a little woman I hadn't met before told me, "I used to have what looked like a swollen cyst on the inside of my wrist."  She held out her arm, pointing to the smooth flesh where the cyst must have been.

I had no idea why she was telling me this story, but I've learned that when people appear out of the blue, it's usually to deliver a lesson you need to learn.  I adjusted my rain hat, preparing to hear what the cyst had to teach me.

"I went to the doctor," she said, "and he examined it.  He said it wasn't cancer, or anything like that.  So what was it, I asked him?"

The group turned to walk back to the trailhead, the little woman with them.  "Wait, what was it?" I called after her.

She looked earnestly over her shoulder at me, "An imperfection.  He said sometimes we just have to live with our imperfections."

Our mantra for the week is, "I embrace my imperfections because they are what make me, me."