today was alright

cursory

i recently proclaimed that i don’t possess attention to detail. this is both true and not. there was a rebuke (of me). it was referring to specific job functions that i don’t excel at. that i loathe. that i don’t do and then get caught. then spiral into a pit of pity and self-flagellation.

(this is where i am most comfortable.)

my statement of detail attentiveness — my rebuke of it — was specifically referring to data entry. it was less specifically referring to my life as someone who sees macro before micro. the forest before the trees. the long game versus the immediate. the reactive. the oft short sighted. but back to data entry. i hate it. and in this day in age it’s mostly redundant. there are zaps and apis and all other automations to get tings to work together on their own. but some people like double work. or resist change. or resist payment for change. or just flat out like double work. is this chaos? does it invite chaos in? does it make room for it like a dinner guest you’ve only met once before?

real talk: what matters for me — and therefore matters the most — in this meandering thought is not the work that is being asked. the work i refuse to do. the work that i am putting off even though i know it will need to be done and when i am forced to do it, it will be harder. what matters is my resistance. that is chaos. waiting to see how far i can go, how many people i can upset, how much anxiety i can accumulate before being forced to do “it” under an overwhelming veil of guilt.

for what it’s worth: i can possess great attention to detail. i’m just very selective of the details i attend to.

The 4 Non Blondes’ hit song “What’s Up?”

i learned this past week that it takes seven days of shouting words of encouragement, direction, witty banter to lose my voice. i am loud. i am large. for seven days i was given an opportunity to hold space for participants of a large event sometimes only seconds at a time, up to twice a day. “if this isn’t ministry work i don’t know what is,” i messaged a friend who shares a similar calling.

debriefing the experience with a mentor earlier today she said something along the lines of “the more we share love and gratitude with others, the more we then embody it ourselves.” this was the validation i needed. i am exhausted. i am spent. i am addict – i want to do it again. holding space gets me high.

something that has become a common narrative for me over the past couple of months: when I have self-acceptance around being awkward & queer it creates a space where another can be more vulnerable & authentic. this takes some energy on my part but the return is often — not always! — of benefit to me¹. i get to share the joy that said authenticity brings and i get to be a part of the good vibes. even tears are good vibes. there were lots of tears last week.

sometimes people just need a “good morning, sunshine.” at maximum volume at 7am. or perhaps a “welcome back to camp! you did it!” later in the early evening. my self-appointed job was to provide a small space (physical? emotional? metaphysical?) for the people to feel seen, loved, accepted.

so selfish!

travel.

i’ve read that it is a sign of generational age to end texts with a period. to end sentences with punctuation on a medium that is meant to be quick and free of form. i like a good “.”. it says “That’s all.” in a Miranda Priestly sort of way. or maybe it’s more “Your turn.” a period brings closure. even though the conversation continues.

i’ve been traveling — i’m currently writing this fighting my body telling me it’s been time to go to bed for at least a while now. i was gone for two weeks in a place that was not unknown – but not as familiar as i thought. it felt so good to be back. i had to continuously remind myself that this is this time and not the trip from 20 years ago. i had to give myself permission – no, i had to insist! – to experience everything as if it was new. this is all new.

new towns. new accents. new castles. new mountains to climb. new relationships to explore. new neutrality to sit in.

i got to move through the space and time in a different space & time.