Because sometimes we forget. And the remembering-- not of what we've done or where we've been-- but of who we are comes from outside of ourselves. We can't understand how we "became" with any level of grace until someone else taps us on the shoulder and reminds us, pointing back, with a perspective free of our own self doubt, steeped in forgiveness, love, friendship, and hope.
And just so you know-- I'm still surprised how easily your voice becomes true north to my anxious heart. It's not that I'm feeling anxious tonight in this tiny lit box in a western town, it's just that I am-- anxious-- whether born or formed over time, but I know my place and purpose in this world because your voice brings me back there every time, across miles and wires and signals on lines.
Goodnight, my California. 💘
Fade into view
it's been a while since I have even heard from you (heard from you)
