Great Things About Today
1. 3:00 am conversations about fats, life and love with beautiful friends to live with. Deep connections of heart and mind that create a home where there was none.
2. Waking up lazy, and honest. Fresh air sliding in through open window.
3. Dancing in the living room. Being upside down, being horizontal, being a ball. The spine and all the muscles around it. My oxygen and blood-filled organs. And the music that it all happened to. That this thing called dance is still there, no matter how many million other distractions I occupy my time with.
4. The cleaning of one’s bedroom, and the clean bedroom itself.
5. Writing colorful letters to second cousins and parents.
6. Making CD’s for dear friends. Listening to the music being prepared and filling up with an ocean of passion.
7. Walking friend’s lovely, sometimes anxious hound.
8. Finally finding a very very important CD with a great deal of my work on it!! That I thought. Would never. Be found.
Not So Great Thing About Today
1. Trying to be a helpful soul and offering my phone to two girls, no older than 20, in their car so they could “find their friends.” Suddenly watching them drive away with my phone as I am left utterly shocked and hurt. Heart pounding, hands on head, a naive little girl who assumes that everyone’s intentions are always pure. Too simple to recognize that unfair, unhappy circumstances are perpetuated as people are left with emptiness they don’t know how to fill.
But to make up for it all
1. A sweet, kind, warm soul named Steven who happens to be walking up Milvia just as I attempt to take the steps toward home and process what has just happened. Shaken, confused, pained, I take a few steps forward then look back, then walk back. Then walk forward. Steven lets me suddenly weep and feel everything. He walks me home. He puts his hand on my shoulder and lets me use his phone.
2. My father who always expects me to be as strong as a mountain. Never allowing me to wallow in anything. Never satisfying my desire to be the victim. My father, who tells me that this petty, meaningless event is not a reflection of humanity’s goodness. My father who tells me that yes, all people are good, who has no need to forgive the “criminals” because he never accuses them of being as such. My father, who never ceases to surprise me in his utter wisdom and power over all of life’s difficulties. My father whose memories of political catastrophes much much direly unfair than petty theft has left him as thick and tough as leather.
May those two silly girls be safe and at peace. May my heart grow ever stronger, may my skin be as tough as my father’s. May I always recognize the love and support surrounding me. May the delinquencies of humanity never leave me jaded or questioning of their goodness and of their deserving of all of life’s blessings.