You picking up what I'm putting down?

Miscellanea #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.

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.

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?”