It’s weird when someone transitions, I feel like we feel pity, almost from this unsaid place of privilege, like we’re of the eternal realm of the living and they left the club.
But none of us are permanent members.
It hit me that at at any moment, each of us can turn into dust, into a memory.
I think I’m going to work to make sure mine’s a more consistent one, one more present and patient, less reactive.
My friend who’s probably as broke as me was telling me about all the things she’s done to heal her heart. From $700 spiritual trainings to out-of-pocket counseling and acupuncture to indigenous healing rituals to yoga training…
I was like well got dang, that’s a lot of investment.
She said she had to choose between investing in her career or herself. And she calculated that the latter would make her better for the first anyways so…
Well I’ll be.
It’s like paying to make living easier for you.
Think I just found my new #lifegoals.
So I’ll be some better dust to everyone one day.
I’d like that.
brown like me 