ANAM CARA (Soul Friend) If I shared with you the coward in me—what keeps me awake at night, we'd likely become friends. We'd share our torments and contemplate the afflictions of our humanness, the absurdity of perfection. This would be the way we came to know one another. This would be the way we met. But if I shared with you my homemade bread, and we ate it hot, with lots of butter, we'd master the art of eating too much and we'd roll on the ground and laugh at the sight of all the spilled tea, the crumbs we "saved for later." I'd pinch the chubby of my own cheeks and throw my hands up and dance. You would dance as well, and you'd remember why we need this way too. There would be tears and they'd be happy ones, and we'd remember the way of togetherness, we'd remember we were soul friends.