It’s just been too long since I posted. I have been working on composing some really profound ruminations. But sometimes I think it’s better just to write. Not compose. Just give you words. Then you can do the ruminating. I get stuck in a brain spiral. That doesn’t do anyone any good.
One of the aims of this blog is to get us to make the world smaller. To listen to each other better and look people in the eye. So in honor of that, I will share my favorite thing I’ve heard this week. A new person who has come into my life, a friend of my sister’s, is a true kindred spirit. As soon as I met her I knew we spoke the same language. We have the same goggles on when we look at the world – a kind of floating rootedness. I don’t know what that means. But I know what it feels like. This is what she said on Sunday when our conversation turned to fashion:
“I love rolling my pants up. It makes me feel like I’m really living.”
I knew exactly what she meant. How delicious. Those simple acts that shift a whole day – a breeze on the skin of your ankles is like a whole new adventure. One of the tiny ones that we have to squeeze in between the big ones. If I didn’t love LJ before, I am now hopelessly in friend love with her.
Tonight on my ride home, I spiraled into a yucky place – thoughts of death and loneliness and lots of tired self-pity. PATHETIC. But all I have to do is roll my pants up and set off. Take off my shoes. Drink my sister’s homemade lemoncello. Discover The Greencards on iTunes. Eat fried chicken with my parents. Read some Shakespeare.
And there you go. I’m really living again.