(no subject)
1. i'm glad that there are other people in the world who like music, who sing and hum and tap their fingers without even thinking. who quote musicals when they don't know what to do with their lives. who can shed a tear for the beauty or the sadness that a note, or a gesture, or a coo contains.
2. i'm glad that sentences mean more and less than words. that paragraphs mean more and less than sentences. that things get stronger and weaker as they grow. that evolution is a natural progression toward dissolution.
3. i'm glad that people mix foods together. mashed potatoes touching corn. or the first person to put cilantro and coconut together. that things like relish, taboule, and pesto exist.
4. i'm glad that sex is still something most people like to do, even if it makes them feel guilty or silly or gross. i'm glad that day after day, people think about fucking or making love and that, at the end of the day, people will always laugh at a joke that involves a dildo or a dog sniffing your crotch.
5. i'm glad that people draw and photograph each other. i'm glad that my parents took video of me growing up. i'm glad that of all the things in the world to salvage from time's progress, sometimes -- and often -- people choose to document other people.
6. i'm glad for world religion and sage advice. for folks who've gone ahead and take the time to look back when it's safe to.
7. i'm glad for children who cry when they're sad, laugh when they're happy, and aren't afraid to ask what they want for. i'm glad for kids who touch things they shouldn't, who break and discover, and don't scar badly.
8. i'm glad for the way movies take images, sounds, dialogue, and stories and put them all together. they remind me of campfires, faces lit with light, and everyone still, listening, watching, thinking in silence.
9. i'm glad for quiet, for space to think, for a soft place to sit and ask myself who i am. for the opportunity to befriend that voice in my head that so many others have tried to coopt -- to turn into a voice of recrimination and self-hatred and religiosity. i am glad for my mind's resilience, its fertility, its ability to resist all that and grow, remain curious, break open.
10. i'm glad for animals and their odd shapes and noises. how they always seem both human and not, how they live and sniff and lift off into flight or move through currents with their mouths wide open. how they live without fighting life.
11. i'm glad for people who study boundaries. who keep pushing the world larger. the scientists and philosophers, the people who see truth as an unknowable void they can sense but not quite grasp. people who see no conflict between curiosity and criticality.
12. i'm glad for families, the odd way it feels to belong to one, the way it feels like you're supposed to leave them, though their pull is constant as gravity. and the comfort they provide when they're good and even when they're dysfunctional, how warm they can be after a while out alone in the world.
13. i'm glad for seasons. when the world changes, i change with it. and it's good to have winter to move deeply into things, or summer to become entropic and light. i love the way spring makes me think of the future, and autumn of the past.
14. i'm glad for my body. all the corporeal pleasures that come with opening and closing, breath in and breath out, leaking, consuming, and deep deep sleep.
15. i'm glad for revelation. for the clarity that comes with letting something go. the courage that comes with knowing something is true, even if it isn't convenient. the strength that comes with belief and wisdom.
16. i'm glad for coworkers. the friends who are always a little more objective but also always on your side. the quick intimacy that comes with telling someone that the customer they just helped was hot, or an asshole. and how nice it feels to do something nice for someone you wouldn't know except they stand beside you all day being bored.
17. i'm glad for christmas lights. the soft glow of nostalgia, the blurred purity of electric light against the blades of trees, the shingles of roofs, or the half-lit vignettes of my memories.
18. i'm glad for swimming, gymnastics, diving, tae kwon do, trampolines, running, and all the things i can do at the gym to feel weightless and awkward as a crane.
19. i'm grateful for compound colors like aquamarine, seafoam, slateblue, and coral and rust. how they always shift depending on how the light hits.
20. i'm grateful for things that can be said in words, that leave me rummaging through a feeling even after nothing comes.
21. i'm grateful for awkward pairings. couples that don't make sense. or giant musclemen walking daschunds. two leaves fallen on the grass from two different trees, or the way two raindrops might find each other and melt into one after falling down a window in different directions.
22. i'm grateful for vistas. the world turned into geometry from the window of a plane. or the clearing at the top of a mountain climb. the way a highway looks like the edge of the sky when you're going up a bridge, or how the ocean is the edge of the world when you're standing in it at midday, two blue halves meeting at a horizon.
23. i'm grateful for stars. the way we turn them into animals and people and stories. the way everyone thinks they can find the little dipper -- and usually do. the way we talk in lightyears around them, or lie on our backs and feel their comfort one moment and then wonder at our incomprehensible smallness.
24. i'm grateful for my mind. bigger than the solar system, as it can wrap itself around all the stars.
25. i'm grateful for life. the miracle of coming up out of nothing and returning to it eventually. how it connects us and inspires gruesome and outrageous acts, how it spurs people on with its promises and unfairness, how it grounds us, moves us, and leaves us without comment. and though we are smaller than it, how it never speaks -- how it leaves the commentary to us, our choice to do with it what we will.
2. i'm glad that sentences mean more and less than words. that paragraphs mean more and less than sentences. that things get stronger and weaker as they grow. that evolution is a natural progression toward dissolution.
3. i'm glad that people mix foods together. mashed potatoes touching corn. or the first person to put cilantro and coconut together. that things like relish, taboule, and pesto exist.
4. i'm glad that sex is still something most people like to do, even if it makes them feel guilty or silly or gross. i'm glad that day after day, people think about fucking or making love and that, at the end of the day, people will always laugh at a joke that involves a dildo or a dog sniffing your crotch.
5. i'm glad that people draw and photograph each other. i'm glad that my parents took video of me growing up. i'm glad that of all the things in the world to salvage from time's progress, sometimes -- and often -- people choose to document other people.
6. i'm glad for world religion and sage advice. for folks who've gone ahead and take the time to look back when it's safe to.
7. i'm glad for children who cry when they're sad, laugh when they're happy, and aren't afraid to ask what they want for. i'm glad for kids who touch things they shouldn't, who break and discover, and don't scar badly.
8. i'm glad for the way movies take images, sounds, dialogue, and stories and put them all together. they remind me of campfires, faces lit with light, and everyone still, listening, watching, thinking in silence.
9. i'm glad for quiet, for space to think, for a soft place to sit and ask myself who i am. for the opportunity to befriend that voice in my head that so many others have tried to coopt -- to turn into a voice of recrimination and self-hatred and religiosity. i am glad for my mind's resilience, its fertility, its ability to resist all that and grow, remain curious, break open.
10. i'm glad for animals and their odd shapes and noises. how they always seem both human and not, how they live and sniff and lift off into flight or move through currents with their mouths wide open. how they live without fighting life.
11. i'm glad for people who study boundaries. who keep pushing the world larger. the scientists and philosophers, the people who see truth as an unknowable void they can sense but not quite grasp. people who see no conflict between curiosity and criticality.
12. i'm glad for families, the odd way it feels to belong to one, the way it feels like you're supposed to leave them, though their pull is constant as gravity. and the comfort they provide when they're good and even when they're dysfunctional, how warm they can be after a while out alone in the world.
13. i'm glad for seasons. when the world changes, i change with it. and it's good to have winter to move deeply into things, or summer to become entropic and light. i love the way spring makes me think of the future, and autumn of the past.
14. i'm glad for my body. all the corporeal pleasures that come with opening and closing, breath in and breath out, leaking, consuming, and deep deep sleep.
15. i'm glad for revelation. for the clarity that comes with letting something go. the courage that comes with knowing something is true, even if it isn't convenient. the strength that comes with belief and wisdom.
16. i'm glad for coworkers. the friends who are always a little more objective but also always on your side. the quick intimacy that comes with telling someone that the customer they just helped was hot, or an asshole. and how nice it feels to do something nice for someone you wouldn't know except they stand beside you all day being bored.
17. i'm glad for christmas lights. the soft glow of nostalgia, the blurred purity of electric light against the blades of trees, the shingles of roofs, or the half-lit vignettes of my memories.
18. i'm glad for swimming, gymnastics, diving, tae kwon do, trampolines, running, and all the things i can do at the gym to feel weightless and awkward as a crane.
19. i'm grateful for compound colors like aquamarine, seafoam, slateblue, and coral and rust. how they always shift depending on how the light hits.
20. i'm grateful for things that can be said in words, that leave me rummaging through a feeling even after nothing comes.
21. i'm grateful for awkward pairings. couples that don't make sense. or giant musclemen walking daschunds. two leaves fallen on the grass from two different trees, or the way two raindrops might find each other and melt into one after falling down a window in different directions.
22. i'm grateful for vistas. the world turned into geometry from the window of a plane. or the clearing at the top of a mountain climb. the way a highway looks like the edge of the sky when you're going up a bridge, or how the ocean is the edge of the world when you're standing in it at midday, two blue halves meeting at a horizon.
23. i'm grateful for stars. the way we turn them into animals and people and stories. the way everyone thinks they can find the little dipper -- and usually do. the way we talk in lightyears around them, or lie on our backs and feel their comfort one moment and then wonder at our incomprehensible smallness.
24. i'm grateful for my mind. bigger than the solar system, as it can wrap itself around all the stars.
25. i'm grateful for life. the miracle of coming up out of nothing and returning to it eventually. how it connects us and inspires gruesome and outrageous acts, how it spurs people on with its promises and unfairness, how it grounds us, moves us, and leaves us without comment. and though we are smaller than it, how it never speaks -- how it leaves the commentary to us, our choice to do with it what we will.