You picking up what I'm putting down?

#61: All the places you go when you make a habit of forgetting a birthday

Over the years, I accidentally made a tradition of forgetting Guillermo’s birthday — but this week, breaking tradition, I took a birthday call with him and Nick. We took turns hearing from one another, celebrating and making fun — rich with the brand of jokes that particular friends share of late 20s growing pains.

Casual mentions of foundational beliefs are the norm in these circles, and I am eager to rend casualties of the belligerent piety of my past. Nick said something about taking a jack-hammer to these foundations and I saw, in my mind’s eye, a concrete drill bit whirling through the clouds — a saw buzz through the infinite nothing, open air.

In that moment I posited — belief is binary: open or closed.

You may wonder why week after week I return to the subject of faith — I am prone to wonder the same. Perhaps something can be said for a verse I wrote this morning:

All my years a bigot were
the baseline for a lifelong chore
of picking up what I was putting down

Thanks for reading, y’all. I hope you find the strength to cherish the day ahead of you and to lay your head down tonight with some leftover of gratitude.

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Music! aka I’ve got no links this week.

The Best of 2020 playlist is shaping up to be my longest yearly playlist yet — listen to my list of comprehensive picks for 2020’s best tunes (music tastes are extremely subjective, so I’m sorry if you don’t like sad girl rock:

Oh, and here’s the Apple Music link for all the real ones.

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You can't tell when strange things with meaning
will happen. I'm [still] here writing it down
just the way it was. "You don't have to
prove anything," my mother said. "Just be ready
for what God sends." I listened and put my hand
out in the sun again. It was all easy.

William Stafford, “Are You Mr. William Stafford?”