When a light dims, one must call out to the Repairer. He is the one who can make us bright again; so you must always try your best to get his attention. He’s an excellent listener, some might say the best. So, if all you can muster is a whisper, he will hear it and come straight away. He’s astute and very kind. Whatever you need, he will repair. Even if your light goes out, or you can’t find the words, do not worry. You can reach him with your thoughts and he will find you.
Live.
Crayons have felt significant for as long as I can remember. As a kid, the sheer delight of getting the 64-count box with the sharpener or going to a restaurant that encouraged coloring on the paper tablecloth was equal to winning the lottery. And to be honest, not much has changed; though winning the lottery would be nice.
Do you ever think about the journey of a crayon? A crayon can come in a paper pack of 3, or a box of 32, even a tub of 240! Some are popular, others barely get noticed. They get sharpened, broken; their labels torn. It sounds exhausting. But what if it’s the opposite? What if a crayon’s life is considered well-lived when it’s been worn down to a little nub. They’ve made the world more colorful; been a comfort on hard days; perhaps some have been the communicators of sadness. What a privilege to be the picked crayon(s) for someone needing to express themselves. When there are no words, draw. When anxiety creeps up, color. Crayons are approachable. No manual required. They make anything possible. An elephant wearing a top hat and surfing? No problem! Pink storm clouds that rain grapes— Why not? They are the cultivators of imagination and the keepers of emotion. We hold onto a crayon with intention. If crayons could talk, the stories they could tell. And isn’t it sad to think about the ones that don’t get used but once or twice. Though they may be comfortable and safe from harm, they miss out on great adventures and absurdities. Crayons are simple and yet they can draw the entire world. I think that bluetiful. So be a good steward and use every color. Let the crayons live!
Accumulate
I wanted to write you this morning, and I needed to write. Over the last few months, I’ve put pen to paper more than posting. A lot of it isn’t even worth mentioning, but writing does make me feel better. I’m not sure if that has always been true or if it came to be. Regardless, it’s a good thing to know. Now, to just be more consistent in practice. One thing I wonder about fairly often is if others have as many ideas or questions in their head as I do. To me, most people seem leaps and bounds ahead of me when it comes to articulating an idea or feeling. It takes me time and deliberation. And being concise—forget about it! I’ve been lucky enough to have a couple of people in my life who manage to translate my jumbled, rambling language into sensible speech. Bless those friends and bless those of you with the patience to sift through my thoughts without a translator! It’s part of why writing is so important to me. It helps me connect the idea dots in my head and heart. But, don’t worry, there are times when my brain feels completely incapable of producing anything, let alone something interesting.
That brings me to clown 🤡. With me, I hope all roads always lead to clowns. I have no plan for a professional clown career, nor have I had any breakthroughs in class recently. It’s been good to fail in that space though…ego-bruising, but helpful. Those classes can be silly, weird, dark, beautiful, or even crude. The people I’ve taken classes with for about six months now have become an unexpected community of care. I often feel like I don’t fit in— though because of that I kind of do. The creativity that bubbles up is boundless. I like being there because I crave more boldness there. Recurring feedback from my clown teacher:
Keep energy up
Be bigger
Welp, are you thinking what i’m thinking? Notes for life. I titled this post Accumulate because when I was in elementary school, I lost a spelling bee on that word. And now I wonder if it was meant to be a word I remember. Not in a hoarder sense, but in an experiential way. ChatGPT told me the word "accumulate" means to gather or collect something over time. It can refer to physical things (like snow, books, or clutter) or abstract things (like knowledge, debt, or emotions). And so with a rare confidence, I confess i’ve become an accumulator.