yesterday & months ago

all the things.

i hate that my settings default to "paragraph" mode and double-space everything.

my house smells like pie,

and i cannot fully put my arm down as i type 

because i'm wearing a thick wooden bangle on my arm.

i added more coffee to my mug along with some cacao and 

coconut milk

cinnamon

a pinch of salt

not because i had convinced myself it would be delicious

but because it sounded good at the time.

it's good enough to drink, and right now,

that's all i ask.

 

it's about lunchtime, but salt & cracked pepper

pretzels were the only thing that sounded good.

i ate some and then tucked the bag back in the pantry 

because if i brought them here

they'd be gone soon. too soon.

just like the salt & vinegar chips that my son demolished yesterday.

i had two chips out of the whole bag. TWO. 

and he left the bag on my desk after he finished his homework.

empty. 

to taunt me. 

i craved those exact chips when i was

pregnant with him.

i should not be surprised.

i hadn't planned to write today. 

but today looks different than planned, 

and seeing as i don't generally get upset about 

cancelled plans,

i found myself here instead.

letting the words come.

 

i cannot help but look around my office

and notice books upon books that i want

to read. and i notice

books upon books

which have opened up other worlds to me.

 

the older i get the more i realize that i

am weird.

and so are you, even if you

haven't realized it yet.

{sorry to burst your bubble.}

it's simply that "normal" is a myth

of sorts.

we're all as normal

and as weird

as any other person.

 

haven't you gotten to know someone and just thought - wow,

you're weird?

and people think that about me too. and you.

because we all see the world through our own lens.

at least if we let ourselves stop defaulting

to what others tell us to think.

 

each person is like a facet of the divine.

imago dei.

created in the image of God.

no, we don't represent him perfectly,

sometimes we don't represent him 

at all.

but we are created in his image.

and we're all 

SO

different.

and exactly the same.

the paradox of life.

the paradox of humanity.

dust to dust.

 

yet again we find ourselves in the dust. 

trying to make sense of life.

 

 

xoxo