Journeys of a Wandering Wordsmith
Journey with me on my blog!
The Year I Don't Wanna Look Back On (Again)
I don't want to look back on this year. Who would? This year was awful. This year made no sense. Much like its evil stepsister year before, this year isn't one I want to relive. Like, ever. And yet we are doomed to repeat history if we do not learn from it. It's true of societies, and it's true of individuals. As much as I want to forget most of 2021, I also want to learn from 2021 – desperately. The missteps. The failures. The doom. The gloom. What a tragedy for me – for you, for all of us – to enter 2022 or 2023 or 2087 and not learn a thing from 2021.
To Watch the Storms of My Sadness
Gluggavedur, "window-weather," is the notion of watching a storm from afar. Of being safely indoors, warm and secure, while the storm brews on the horizon. Lightning, swirling clouds, and rain – all seen through a pane of glass. The concept can be taken metaphorically, too, to separate yourself from your swirling emotions within. Of creating a space between you and the storms: sadness, anger, stress, fear, etc. Of not ignoring these hard feelings, but being aware of them, watching them from the other side of the glass...until they eventually pass.
God I Hate People
For all the headaches other humans have caused me, Lord knows I've caused the same (and worse) in others. But we're different. We come from different families and cultures. We're all motivated differently. We want and need different things to sustain us, day by day. Okay. I get it now. Now, how can we unite? Around Whom can we follow a common path?
Leave Me Alone
I'm grieving more than just the loss of my grandfather — a hero, a giant, an embodiment of God's love. I'm grieving all relational brokenness. I'm grieving human death for the first time, yes, but I'm also grieving everything else that separates humanity. Divorce, war, disagreement, misunderstanding, vitriol. Friends who aren't friends anymore.
I Need to be Sad
The sadness. I can't ever let myself forget how sad and broken everything is. From the inside out. I can't, or I go on autopilot. I become a monster of a human I'd never want any of you to see.
This Isn't Real Life
When real life gets hard and messy and not as it should be, I have an inner sanctum I return to, again and again. One rotted by dopamine-laced falsities.
