🍩 Call and Response: 3 Serendipity Signs

Note: This is a paywalled post, as I do when writing from the confidence wound in real-time, not the shinier purple scars of hindsight. That means it’s less about wisdom or answers, and more of an exploration of what the dirt feels like . . . at least for me. After all, essay means “to try.”

My heart breaks for all those in Los Angeles and around the world who have lost everything due to natural disasters and senseless war. This post is an existential speck; theirs is an unfathomable tragedy. With that in mind, I proceed, but hesitatingly.

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Sometimes, I feel pathetic. That’s the word I use when I’m being mean to myself. I didn’t say that I am pathetic, just that I feel that way on the bad days. The days when I know how much I have to be grateful for, yet still can’t see through the fog of confusion.