Just on my drive to work, I pay close attention to humanity. I always have. People and their stories have always fascinated me. There's an older gentleman strolling through my neighborhood, alone - and part of me is wishing I didn't have to clock in so I could keep him company. I'm sure he's got a lot on his mind, and possibly nobody to share it with at home. Two blocks down there's a young woman tending to flower beds in her front yard, in old jeans and a distressed t-shirt, wiping sweat from her forehead and I'm wondering how long she's been working. I wonder why she chose to plant the flowers that she did, or if those were even her choices in the first place. Maybe the gardening is a chore to her, but I'm hoping it's something that brings her comfort of some kind, too. I don't know anything about her, but I feel like she deserves that.
There's a team of young kids playing soccer in a schoolyard not far from my house. Cars are lining the street, parents are off to the side with waters and buried deep in conversations about what I can only assume includes today's political climate, the pandemic, and everything else their 2020's have held.
On the corner there's a homeless man, or at least that's how it seems. He's either that or a good actor, but either way I handed him $2 and one of the extra water bottles I always keep in my car. I recognize that there's a good chance he lives in a nicer house than my own, or that he might just be begging for the money to fuel an addiction - but there's just as great a chance that maybe he really does need help. And knowing that, I can't not help him. I can't drive past him like everything is okay just because it's that way for me. That isn't how we heal our communities, and that isn't how we should be living. I think about that a lot.
I post from the coffee house so often that the other day I was asked if I was the new owner. I do the same thing every time, on an almost daily basis - order a grande iced mocha and drink it fast while I sit and get some writing done. Some makes it here, some stays tucked away in journals, and some is a work in progress for my upcoming book. It's also where I come for moments of peace, the way other people go to bars for happy hour. I make notes of all the things the upcoming weeks will entail, get as many tasks taken care of as I can, and walk out feeling a little more in control of the chaos around me. It's somewhere my soul feels calm, and with the way the world is right now... that's big.
I won't lie, I've been going through a LOT lately - emotionally. I know I say that a lot, but I'm just now getting to a place where I'm comfortable with being open about it. It's important to me that I'm honest about that. I'm learning to (more or less) shine a light on my weaknesses because that's where most of my growth and my learning happens. I'm having to navigate things I thought I'd never have to, with people I thought would always have my back, on top of prepping for a move, learning how to survive a global pandemic and a HUGE social justice movement simultaneously, working 3-4 different jobs every week and working on remembering to just sit and breathe.
Creatively, I'm not producing my best work right now and I've accepted that. I can't do everything at once, and sometimes I have to yell that at myself so my brain and my heart shut up for a minute and listen. Sometimes, self-love is loud as hell and silent at the same time.
I took this selfie before my second shift of the day in the middle of the week last week, minutes before I committed myself to two additional gigs and miiiiiiiight've asked myself if I'm taking on more than I can handle.
But I'm not. A lot? Yes. Too much? Never. I know my limits.
As it turns out, those limits include 3/4 of a pizza, 2-3 drinks and a season or a season and a half of "FRIENDS" at a time.
I'm a sucker for a lot of little things. Twinkle lights, the smell of freshly dried laundry, dandelions, a good pasta sauce, bold lipstick shades, tattoos with stories behind them, the way rain drips down windows, people who dream big, etc...
but dinners with people I love will always top all of it. Celebrated the end of a hectic week last week by taking my little brother to one of my favorite burger places and staying completely wrapped up in that moment. With phones put away, (minus me snapping this photo), we shared good food and better conversation. He and I live together, but as frantically as we're personally evolving and keeping up with our own lives - it's very rare to get to sit together and savor such simplicity.
There's usually some sort of point to the work I decide to share here, but I think it's different this time. I don't have anything to tell you.
I just want to remind you to take care of yourselves, and be good to each other, and to help when you can, and to work hard, and to love like you have no idea what could possibly happen next.
Because you don't, and none of us do.
That's all.
Love you. xxo
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