My disposition this morning:
No matter how stout or frail, uphill or down, prophet or clown,
the final hour will come.
We’ll each be defined by what’s left behind so be kind, damn it.
Be kind.
Maybe I should wait for a better mood to write, but it’s getting hot. I don’t hold out much hope for anything but modest hydration and loose-fitting clothes.
Desquamation is the shedding of the outermost layer of the epidermis. Living people do it all the time. It is natural. Essential. And the dust left behind varies in hue depending on race.
David Sedaris wrote that he wants to crawl into crisp, clean sheets in his hotel bed every night. Does he know anything about the cost of hot water and the toxicity of chlorine? Does he fear his own white detritus?
We litter our days with legalized greed, leaving dirty dishes, hurt feelings, tattered aspirations, and false humility to churn around us as we drift downstream, laden with envy and small regrets.
One time, after climbing a famous butte in our region, our vegetarian friend was given a T-bone steak by accident. He left nothing behind but the gnawed bone which he took home to remember. For one sparkling moment, his plate was clean.
Our contradictions enlighten us. It is a blessed thing to circle back and forgive or be forgiven. Even more blessed to yell pshaw, slap our knees, and gleefully guffaw at the absurdity of trying to eradicate weeds.
Thus sayeth the Many: You cannot look away from a spiraling plane nor stop the impending crash. You cannot even slow the shedding of your lovely skin.
Thus sayeth me: I know. But do you promise you’ll have the final Word?
Thus sayeth Them: Yes.
Thus admidith me: Sorry, but I don’t believe you.
Thus reassureth Them: You’re not alone.
In the crowded photo booths of life, the ancestors show up as shadows, inclined toward simple guidance. Be honest. Be worthy, generous, and wise. But most of all, be kind, damn it. Be kind.
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Short visits with an honest God 