Both Moon and Lighthouse
This morning, the weather seems to have turned. I put a soft robe on over my clothing to dash outside to pet the neighbor’s cat, who was waiting on the back steps. This little ritual of love is something that I love. It is, after all, nice to be chosen.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about that. The act of choosing people. The act of articulating that. It matters. I’ve never been shy about it, even if I’ve been nervous about it. I think choosing and being chosen is a powerful thing. And when you are not chosen, it is also a powerful thing to walk away. To not accept less. To recall your own worth.
This time of year is also a moody one, for me. I love fall. I love Halloween. I love my own birthday. I am, at heart, a dork. And I make no apologies for that. But the weather turns, and my thoughts do too. There is curiosity and wonder, a swirl of what-if. And beyond that, a niggle of doubt that perhaps I should’ve done this or that differently. Like I said, moody.
But we are all doing the best we can in a messy world. And I think it’s important to remember that. None of us are perfect. None of us are incapable of mistakes. To think otherwise is not just hubris—it’s harmful, too. Because it removes the capacity for forgiveness, compassion. And I think when we lose the ability to extend both of those things—to ourselves and others—so much is lost in its wake.
There are a lot of things on my mind, today. I had a vision for something that I don’t think will materialize. At least, not in the way I wanted. And that’s okay. It’s minor stakes. But what reverberates the most this morning is a reminder to be brave. Not precise or cool or unaffected. But heart-led and robust and deeply feeling. To speak the words and find out. To not wonder. To not weaponize silence as definitive.
Someone I used to know used silence in a harmful way. It took me time to unravel that, and I am still not perfect at it. But it also taught me how to step in and break the silence, to show up for myself and demand answers. To find a way to knowing in a clear way. And for that, I will always be grateful. Because it’s an important skill.
I have been known to upend the apple cart a time or two. Crash a party. Dispel the doubt for the sake of clarity. This week, let it be a time for knowing what belongs and what does not. May it be a time for care and confession and understanding. May it be both moon and lighthouse.
The weather turns, and so does the world. The seasons lingering delicately, as if meeting for the first time. Hearts are like that too: gathering in a common space, yielding a bit of ground for the sake of understanding, seeing and being seen. This is a gift we give ourselves and each other, a reminder that what is meant for us never gets left behind.
And one final thing, darlings. Origami Ink in North Carolina could use some help. Here is a link to the GoFundMe: https://www.gofundme.com/f/join-us-in-restoring-a-beloved-local-haven?utm_campaign=fp_sharesheet&utm_content=amp8_t1&utm_medium=customer&utm_source=copy_link. May we all show care in the aftermath of every storm.
Until next time, darlings, XOXO.