A young man serenades the train; he sings Frank Sinatra’s “Love” and he’s not very good. But he has a positive energy. It makes me wonder if I pause enough to appreciate all the bravery in the world.
I cannot stress enough the magnificence of trusting yourself in feeling and in outcome.
There is this inclination toward ignoring privilege as if pretending it’s not there is somehow equalizing, when in reality, it has the opposite effect. Inequality, prejudice, institutionalized oppression, and injustices are far too deeply ingrained to be wiped away by imagination.
It dawned on me one day as I sank into a particularly sad mood—the type that has an ache to it like its own heartbeat—that we are not meant to be hollow. So, I chose to view as essential the grief, sadness, and longing that rush in like caged water escaping through cracks in crumbling walls.
You never know when you’ll have to rely on the kindness of strangers, or when you will be a stranger whose kindness is needed. I don’t know that karma works as efficiently and effectively as we might all like to believe, but I do think the more kindness is put out into the world, the better.
Do not rule out the possibility that your life’s intention is simply to be happy.
Cry until you’re all out of tears, and all that remains is resilience.
My life since college graduation has been the most wonderfully uncertain, bumbling, transitional, fun, flailing, cacophony of experiences and existence.
Everyone seems to have a lot of advice on how to make it, how to find happiness, and how to be the best version of yourself.