Stream of Consciousness Volume II
Podcasts are saving my life right now. I get to listen to true crime and space exploration and preachers and the art of creativity and thoughts on the multiverse. All while making my art. I don’t understand how I deserved to be born at a time when curiosity has so many intake valves.
Denzel Washington once said that the greatest threat to progress is ease. Let that sink in for a moment.
I would like to add that the second greatest threat is a series of unfortunate events. Nothing cataclysmic that amps your adrenaline and superhuman strength, not devastation that forces you to re-examine your life and mission, but the slow, needling trauma of relentless misfortune. There is something exhaustive in the quiet pummeling life puts you through on a day-to-basis that can take the best of us down before we realize it. Chronic pain and chronic financial stress rob you of your freedom and condition you towards snatching short-term and momentary delights. If we’re not careful, we’ll start looking for the quick hit instead of reaching for healing and wholeness.
I want to work at being more carefree. I know that “working” at being carefree may be an oxymoron, but this is where I am right now. Being an empath really takes a toll on one's optimism.
Tons of episodes of Jeopardy! are on Netflix. Binge away with a pal and do keep score. You’re welcome.
My grandmother died on Fat Tuesday last year, and it felt like our own international second line to celebrate her passing. I actually brought her a King Cake during Carnival and we had one of the best conversations about heaven and life well-lived. Now I feel as though I get to celebrate her twice as Mardis Gras moves around the calendar each year, and I think that’s rather fitting.
The phrase “it takes one to know one” has taken on a tone far less insolent and accusatory than our childhood insult would suggest. I hear it in my head now with far more tolerance and grace, with a knowing nod and a peaceful smile attached. I think to be seen and known is far more important than we realize.
I am still not going to church. A few weeks ago I told the Lord that neither Isaiah nor John the Baptist were in community and that the wilderness suited them just fine thank you very much. I actually enjoy the woods and the quiet and can I please just stay out here in the wilderness for the rest of my life. He laughed and pointedly told me that He only separates people in order to prepare their hearts that they would deliver a word to the people. So there’s that.
Cortisol is my arch nemesis whom I vow to obliterate.
I did not invest in my relationships with my girlfriends this year and am the poorer for it. Shenanigans with my gals are at the top of the list. See notes regarding carefreeness and cortisol above.
My sister is now a mom and it is a true delight of my life to watch her heart as it is split in two and swallowed up by the adoration of her son and the joy of motherhood. It is breathtaking to watch her be an excellent mother. She’s just the best. I think this is what it feels like to catch a glimpse of someone stepping into their life’s work. It feels holy and sacred to behold.
I don’t understand why the color blue gets such a bad wrap. It’s always associated with being sad or dull or dissatisfied: “I’ve got the blues.” “I feel blue.” “I’m singing the blues.” Give me a break. Blue is regal and exciting and full of optimism. Everyone knows that sadness and heartbreak and the blahs fall between the shades of chartreuse and lovat.