Several nights ago I went to the shores of Lake Michigan to one of my favorite spots. The “dog days” of summer have been hard on many of us Michiganders. We are not accustomed to the ninety degree weather day after day after day. Combine the heat index, the vast number of lakes and rivers with our weather patterns, and it's typically humid in these parts. There are days it feels like you could cut the humidity with a knife; and if you have hair like mine, there isn't enough hair products to tame the frizzies and wild curls.
On my walk, feet in the water, I came upon a sandcastle embellished with driftwood standing guard. As the waves lapped the shoreline and invaded the royal-lands of the castle, it changed little by little until a large wave crashed onto the shoreline and wiped away a part of the sand structure. With it's rounded edges, it took on a new appearance. It was less defined, and softened.
Isn't that the lesson of “experiences”? They either define us more, or they soften us. On occasion, both happens.