I’m a little bit gassy tonight, all bubbly and blerg, which honestly feels like THE most important thing I have to share these days. THE extent of what I’m able to contribute. And, obviously, THE worst thing to write about in a world that complains we tweet every time we go to the bathroom and Facebook what we had for lunch.
For what it’s worth, I MISS seeing everyone’s food pictures ever since the online world was collectively Food Picture Shamed, so I’m likely not to be trusted, which is why I’m writing you anyway, gas and all.
I’m a little bit gassy tonight, all bubbly and blerg, and I’m sitting cross-legged in my chair, consumed with all I have to do this week and the time I don’t have in which to do it.
I’m a little bit gassy tonight, all bubbly and blerg, and I’m wondering even as I watch my fingers fly across the keyboard what in the world I’m typing. What in the world I’m trying to say.
You guys and gals.
I can’t EVEN right now.
I can’t even and I don’t even, you know?
Like, I can’t even figure out what I’m trying to say, and I don’t even know how to put together a sentence, much less a paragraph, much less an entire blog post, but I miss you when I don’t write, so I’m doing it anyway, fumbling and bumbling my way through this.
I miss you because you’re community to me, which is probably why I want to see what you had for lunch. And I miss you because you’re ComeUnity to me, too — community and COMEunity because you’re the people, in the middle of all the arguing and wrangling and side-taking I witness online these days, who affirm for me over and over that we can be beautifully, brilliantly different and still be friends. I miss you because you’re the people who I truly believe wave back to me in the dark, and you’re the ones with whom I long to sit in the mud when I can’t even.
You’re the people, and this is the space, where I feel hope, I guess. This space and looking at my kids. Hope for the future. Hope that we can move beyond pettiness in our wide, wonderful, weird, wonky world and into Loving each other better.
I’m a little bit gassy tonight, all bubbly and blerg, and I’m sitting cross-legged in my chair, consumed with all I have to do this week and the time I don’t have in which to do it, but just for the moment I don’t care, because I feel a little more calm telling you the truth, even though the truth is about gas.
A flock of geese just flew overhead and honked with gusto. They seemed to be flying north, and I wanted to shout, “WRONG WAY,” because Fall is upon us, but I didn’t. I just nodded in solidarity, instead, at my fellow creatures trying to find their way.
I’m a little bit gassy tonight, all bubbly and blerg, and I’m quite certain I just said nothing truly worthwhile. Nevertheless, I elected some time ago to ignore the voice that tells me I have nothing to say, in lieu of the voice that whispers it’s OK to talk anyway. It’s OK to be heard. It’s OK to be me, even if me is gassy and bubbly and blerg.
And so, friends, I leave you with this idea tonight, in the hope that I can give a sliver to you of what you’ve given me, and it’s this: you’re worthy of being heard, too. And being fully you.
P.S. I’m over-the-top busy this week, and yet I’ve been using “busy” as an excuse to be here less and less, which, frankly, hurts my heart. So for this week, I’m writing a paragraph a day and posting it anyway. I can’t promise it’ll be good, but maybe that not’s what community needs, anyway; maybe community just needs us to show up. So that’s what I’ll do. Show up. And send you love. x’s and o’s, friends. x’s and o’s.