I’m thinking about the time that it was you. My most recent love. I write about you a lot And wonder who my next will be. It’s partly out of boredom. Maybe I’ll just get two and I’m greedy to wait for a third to land.
That one boy aside - I’m also thinking about artificial lakes. I went to one today. Nothing could have been more peaceful. I kept seeing either hummingbirds or massive wasps. I was struck by the alive-ness of it all. It was so green and overgrown.
It didn’t care I was there, and somehow that made it more special. It’s as alive as me. Maybe more so. Does that makes sense? It’s fit for the climate and isn’t going to spontaneously combust. It is stoic.
It doesn’t have to choose to live because it knows it belongs there.
I read a book about pushing through fear. I’m dismayed to think that I can’t pray it away. But there’s power in knowing I can push throw hard things versus thinking I can just entice God to snap his fingers and make my battles go away. I can be powerful. I am making it because I am loved enough to be given more chances.
I am grateful for my chances - well, trying to be. I’m grateful for love and my golden blip of existence.
No one could be happier than I have been. Which isn’t to say I’m well adjusted all the time. I‘ve seen stars, read many books, have traveled, and have been planted somewhere that is mostly safe.
That’s why I always say I’m a world. Everyone is. Different lIves, different planets with varying climates. But the same love of God that is our gravity.
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