* not with ink

On Fridays, I don't go to school. And I don't go to work. I stay home. I still have work to do, but I do it at a desk in front of a big window, with a dog sleeping beside me. I listen to music (like Great Good Fine Ok ), I might bake, and I do laundry. Loads and loads of laundry. Sometimes I nap. I hang out with my housemates (dog and husband). This afternoon, we might go see a movie. Maybe we'll bike to the Distillery. Or grab lunch somewhere. Maybe we'll go watch the game at a pub, or maybe we'll stay home and try to survive the stress together. Any way I look at it, today is a gift. I have a full week next week, and this past one was full of job stress. I have had a cold for approximately 7 weeks (I am not even kidding you, folks). But today the sun is shining, and I'm allowed to say no to the things that are adding stress, and a resounding yes to the people and activities I love. Fridays are a gift, and sometimes they're a gift I turn down, l...

Earlier this month, I found an unpublished blog draft that is one line long. It reads: I give up my right to understanding . I don't know why I wrote it. I don't know what prompted it, or what it was that I thought I deserved to understand. But it struck me as still profoundly applicable to my life today. I want to understand everything. If it doesn't make sense, I don't accept it. If I can't wrap my head around it, I'm not okay with it. But what if. What if I gave up the assumption that I need to understand everything? What does it mean to trust something (or someone) I don't understand? What does it look like to stop demanding that explanations must fit my brain's way of working? --- Marriage is teaching me a bit about this. I'm often confused by this other person, the way they do things, their logic for decision-making, their assumptions and presuppositions. Sometimes, trying to understand him goes a long way in bridging whateve...