Hello beautiful human,
This is a discipline. This is a practice. More than the words it’s a commitment to finding within myself that place of wonder, of curiosity, the pinpricks of excitement that come from not knowing what might happen next. And then, from there, sharing that energy with you in some way shape or form.
Some days that comes more easily than others. This morning I woke up late and so far it’s been a mostly crabby day for no reason, graced by scrambled eggs and bacon. Now it’s 2 in the afternoon, the coffee is luke warm, and not everything will happen not everything is possible and let me tell you that is not a message I do well with.
And in the midst of all that, before I even get to the grocery store, I’m clearing this space to connect to myself and, I hope, to you, whenever and wherever you are when these words find you. Because I need to find a way to reframe the day into what is possible, where we might yet go on our small voyages of discovery.
No day has to evaporate into bad moods and missed connections. There is always the possibility of turning everything around.
And just like that, I hear the mellow ringing of bells on my shoulder. I knew you’d come around, she said. She was wearing all purple today, and somehow it matched perfectly the cloudy sky outside.
I never realized how much purple there is in rain clouds before, I told her. Something about that color you’re wearing…it’s a purple…
It’s not, she said. It’s a color humans have no name for and probably can’t even see fully. Just like rain clouds. Just like the person sitting beside you. But call it purple. that’s close enough. Humans are approximate anyway. It’s a species trait. You get close enough. Continually.
Well, I don’t know. It seems to me we try to be pretty exact. I mean look at how long a writer will spend, trying to find the right word. Purple. Violet. Amethyst. Amaranthine. Hyacinth.
Precisely! She laughed and flew over to the monstera plant, sitting herself on a leaf. You try to pin things down in language, in numbers. Look at the physicists with their equations. Look at the tailors with their stitching. She shook her head.
Well, what should we be doing? You’re not helping my mood, I told her. I’m grumpier than I was.
Exact is a moment, she looked at me with what I can only call, in my approximate, word-ish way, infinite tenderness. Exact is Now.
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