To learn to teach.
To live near the desert
To live near the ocean.
To escape the crush of scheduling, for which I take full responsibility.
To ask God how to stop being so angry.
To produce nothing, be known for nothing, be right about nothing, defend nothing.
To confront my loneliness, and befriend it.
To be out of the country during the 2016 presidential election.
To know Muslims.
... and there are many more reasons, some I haven't even allowed myself to think of. It seems to me that no one lives without an agenda. I just want to have a good one.
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Monday, June 13, 2016
Your Good Gifts. You're Good Gifts.
Sometimes gifts come at exactly the right time, and make the deepest impression. I usually don't choose the right gifts to bring to parties, and sometimes I give up. I can think of two weddings where I just FORGOT to bring a gift. But I don't want to do without gifts. I need them, and so do you. In celebration of gifts, here's a list of some of the most important ones I've received.
I listened to the Pocahontas soundtrack, and discovered that I loved to sing. Who thought that would be a good gift? An aunt and uncle I haven't seen in 20 years.
I take up this notebook, and realize it, too, was a gift to me. I am so grateful for it. Blank sheets for my pulsing heart to glide along; blue lines to bring its rhythm true. Slow alignment.
An argyle t-shirt dress I wore with tights for two years. I had very few growth spurts. And as ugly as the garment sounds, I can assure you it was totally in style mid-nineties.
A down comforter I slept on before I even reached home.
My current cell phone.
Yesterday's pancakes.
A pair of heart-shaped earrings.
Spontaneously plugging my tire, filling it with air, and telling me it would be alright.
A plastic to-go mug filled with hot coffee when I left your house for a long drive home. I still use that mug.
After moving into the apartment, with far less help that I needed (read, just my mom - her moving help was one of those gifts that you can never repay), the two of you bounded up the stairs with smoothies for my mom and me.
When we were in Vegas over my birthday, you gave me a card with a cat on the front. I'm bound to say no more in public, but I still laugh when I see it on my dresser.
You gave me your bed when you moved out, and it is far superior to my old one.
You, grandma, trusted me with a responsibility recently. It was so small, setting up something decorative. I could have forgotten about it. I have only since realized that you entrusted me with a piece of your happiness.
You took me seriously when I sounded crazy, more than once, and became indignant for my sake.
You gave me some headbands I use all the time.
You trusted me with a secret. I have kept it.
You gave me frankincense, my favorite scent in all the world. Always available to me now.
This list... it's killing me. It's hard to tell where it ends. It doesn't end. I meant to focus this on the material gifts you've given me, friends, acquaintances, strangers! But I cannot separate them from the immaterial that have been so dear to me. Thank you.
I listened to the Pocahontas soundtrack, and discovered that I loved to sing. Who thought that would be a good gift? An aunt and uncle I haven't seen in 20 years.
I take up this notebook, and realize it, too, was a gift to me. I am so grateful for it. Blank sheets for my pulsing heart to glide along; blue lines to bring its rhythm true. Slow alignment.
An argyle t-shirt dress I wore with tights for two years. I had very few growth spurts. And as ugly as the garment sounds, I can assure you it was totally in style mid-nineties.
A down comforter I slept on before I even reached home.
My current cell phone.
Yesterday's pancakes.
A pair of heart-shaped earrings.
Spontaneously plugging my tire, filling it with air, and telling me it would be alright.
A plastic to-go mug filled with hot coffee when I left your house for a long drive home. I still use that mug.
After moving into the apartment, with far less help that I needed (read, just my mom - her moving help was one of those gifts that you can never repay), the two of you bounded up the stairs with smoothies for my mom and me.
When we were in Vegas over my birthday, you gave me a card with a cat on the front. I'm bound to say no more in public, but I still laugh when I see it on my dresser.
You gave me your bed when you moved out, and it is far superior to my old one.
You, grandma, trusted me with a responsibility recently. It was so small, setting up something decorative. I could have forgotten about it. I have only since realized that you entrusted me with a piece of your happiness.
You took me seriously when I sounded crazy, more than once, and became indignant for my sake.
You gave me some headbands I use all the time.
You trusted me with a secret. I have kept it.
You gave me frankincense, my favorite scent in all the world. Always available to me now.
This list... it's killing me. It's hard to tell where it ends. It doesn't end. I meant to focus this on the material gifts you've given me, friends, acquaintances, strangers! But I cannot separate them from the immaterial that have been so dear to me. Thank you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)