Some people are never overcome by anything: not by grief, not by love, not by anything or anyone. They never hold on too tight and they never push too hard. And other people are overcome by almost everything: by grief, by love, by almost everything. They hold on too tight and they push too hard. Both the flower and the storm bring awe and admiration. Do we live life pushing and pulling and gasping at lightning bolts? Or do we live life poised and positive and breathing clandestine proportions? Who knows! Who can ever say?