Self-portrait, from college.

We all have something, even if it doesn’t have a name.

There might not be any reason for it to be there, in our life.

At least, none that we can think of.

Maybe the reason lurks so far below we don’t even know it — couldn’t possibly imagine it — because we’re afraid to go digging down there.

If there was a name and a reason, at least there would be a plan.

If it had a name, we could tell it to leave.

If we knew what it was called, we might better recognize it when it settles in for another long stay.

We all have something, even if it doesn’t have a name.