Acknowledgements are usually a paragraph that comes at the end of a novel rather than the beginning of an internet article. Nevertheless, there are things for which I must give thanks. Thank you to anxiety. Without you I would not know the bliss of your absence. Thank you to friends that teach me what unconditional love and acceptance are. Thank you to art, to a wall of originals behind me, to an altar in the corner, guitars strewn around the house, and a fresh cup of hand-delivered tea. Thank you.
Further Evidence That I Exist
- Leaving the bathtub plug dismantled after investigating the source of the clog during a shower.
- Using reflection cards that are not my own. Without permission.
- Asking for an extra blanket even after I’ve ascertained there are no extra blankets in the hall closet, nor bedroom closet.
- Not immediately returning a book I’ve pilfered off the shelf.
- In fact, keeping said book on the couch armrest where it might get in the way of others’ living.
- Repeating not one, but two things that had either been said to me, or had happened in the presence of others to the person they were either said about, or in whose presence the events occurred.
- Drinking tea.
- Not being excited to use something that I have no idea how to use.
- Having the same conversation with everyone I talk to in a certain period of time because, clearly, this topic is on my mind a lot. Continuing to wonder how many of my decisions I make on my own, and how many I make at the mercy of big data.
- Quickly clicking back to this word document when the bathroom door opens so others think I am being productive instead of getting distracted on the internet.
- Remembering back to a time when ‘internet’ was capitalized. How young we all were. How full of fresh innocence.
- Going around in circles at the grocery store. Dodging the same woman with her cart full of organized goods. There she is again referencing her shopping list. I wish I would have thought to bring a shopping list. What am I going to get? Oh golly, why has the procurement and preparation of food always been so difficult for me?
- Refining what it means to be feminine.
- Refining what it means to be in relationship.
- Drinking more tea.
- Waking up from a dream in which I was surrounded by a sea of people — some I knew, some I didn’t know — and being struck by hearing a friend’s voice calling to me, but not seeing him in the dream. Thinking about how fascinating sense perceptions are.
- Creating a mess in the kitchen.
- Cleaning up the kitchen.
- The deliciousness of relief upon getting a subluxation in my spine removed.
- Feeling like I’m home.
- Wanting to stay here.
- Knowing that I can.
- And being content.