a gratuitous shot of my girl making a wish over her birthday cake this weekend
and within it, a photo of the same, taken from a different perspective
I have too much to say this morning.
There’s too much input. Too much to process. Too much out there that cries out for examination, analysis and discussion. Too much to try – to really, really try – to make better.
It must be April.
The month when bloggers like me, in a valiant attempt to reach out to the outside world, wind up largely regurgitating on ourselves. The month when we talk even more than usual, and mostly to each other, about what needs to be done. The month when we rail, mostly to one other, on the way that it’s all being screwed up. The month when we tell each other how we’re (meaning the ‘them’ within the us, not the us – never the us) screwing it all up.
And at the end of the day, for all of our efforts, we have won not a whole lot more than the grand prize of utter fatigue.
I know that this isn’t what you come here for – fatalism really isn’t my bag. I’m much more the hopey changey gal who believes it’s possible – whatever it may be.
That’s still me.
But for today, I’m allowing myself a little room to say that it’s feeling kinda futile.
The fighting and the tearing down.
The destruction without construction.
The assumption of ill-will.
The choosing of sides.
So for today, all of will just have to happen without me.
But while I’m gone, I have three requests as you make your way through the April jungle …
- Make room for each other.
- Assume good intentions.
- And above all, remember that you can not compare a story that you are living from the inside to a story that you are viewing from the outside.
Be careful, friends.
It’s a jungle out there.