Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Monday, September 22, 2014
She is often the first human being I see in the morning, no matter the time or the weather.
There may be any number of stories. Maybe she lost someone. Maybe she was discarded. Maybe, like many others, she was sold a bill of goods regarding her opportunities here. Or maybe she knew and shit was so bad back home she came anyway. That could happen too, right? She's here now though, and this is life. Her life.
Where e'er we go we celebrate, the land that makes us refugees...
Does she? What does she celebrate? People always seem to bring something with them that they hang onto. There are cultural mementos. There are signifiers.
So I'm told my own new life is about managing expectations. Did someone tell her that too, or did she already know?
And though I don't feel right about making the comparison since I don't know her circumstances, but I see her and know that everything I think that I know about humility and acceptance is bullshit, and that my gratitude is conditional. That's the long and short of it. I'm really spiritual when shit is going well.
Friday, September 19, 2014
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
There are memories. Insistent and haunting. Pervasive. Invasive? There are days when I see in collage with layers of past patch-worked and pasted over the present like shadows and ghosts. There are days when I must find one spot where I squirreled away some bit of comfort to save for just such times, and just sit to sift through what was then and what is now.