Existential LiturgiesOf Mice and Purity Culture
Once, sitting in my parent's kitchen, I watched a mouse drag itself across the floor. It was folded in half; a mouse trap scraped along behind it.
Existential LiturgiesHope
He mistook his dwindling daysFor THE end of daysAnd who could blame him?Death is a frightful mysteryMuch easier to face itIf all you leav...
Existential LiturgiesMagic
Of Sisyphus and Laundry and Interpretative Dance
Existential musings in a post-evangelical light
Existential LiturgiesOf Mice and Purity Culture
Once, sitting in my parent's kitchen, I watched a mouse drag itself across the floor. It was folded in half; a mouse trap scraped along behind it.
Existential LiturgiesHope
He mistook his dwindling daysFor THE end of daysAnd who could blame him?Death is a frightful mysteryMuch easier to face itIf all you leav...
Existential LiturgiesMagic
Of Sisyphus and Laundry and Interpretative Dance
Existential musings in a post-evangelical light
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We watched a honey bee bustle about on a clover with fervent ambition
She was a young one
Small
She plunged her head so deep in the petals that the smallest of flowers almost swallowed her up
Pulsing thorax, kicking legs, and periodically buzzing wings led me to think it was an especially delightful nectar deposit
Worth it
I walk through this yard every day
Getting the kids to school
Getting myself to work
Picking up groceries
Going on a walk
Cutting the grass
Garbage day
There is a virility to the hustle
My lungs feel bigger and my back feels straighter
In a world of founders and vibe coders and startups and investors it feels good to be productive
Accomplished
But to watch this young bee delight in the nectars of her prize flower, I had to slow down
I followed my one year old daughter around the yard listening to her say "wow" fifty thousand times in a row
Every rock, stick, pebble and patch of dirt is a new galaxy to her
I was thinking about goals and to-dos and budgets and timelines
Half awake
But then we saw this bee
The first of the season--of life, for my daughter
She crouched, hushed, and looked at me before turning her large eyes back to this spectacle of joy
A hard day's work feels good.
But what is it for?
Know where you're going
Be where you are
A billion galaxies
A single star
We watched a honey bee bustle about on a clover with fervent ambition
She was a young one
Small
She plunged her head so deep in the petals that the smallest of flowers almost swallowed her up
Pulsing thorax, kicking legs, and periodically buzzing wings led me to think it was an especially delightful nectar deposit
Worth it
I walk through this yard every day
Getting the kids to school
Getting myself to work
Picking up groceries
Going on a walk
Cutting the grass
Garbage day
There is a virility to the hustle
My lungs feel bigger and my back feels straighter
In a world of founders and vibe coders and startups and investors it feels good to be productive
Accomplished
But to watch this young bee delight in the nectars of her prize flower, I had to slow down
I followed my one year old daughter around the yard listening to her say "wow" fifty thousand times in a row
Every rock, stick, pebble and patch of dirt is a new galaxy to her
I was thinking about goals and to-dos and budgets and timelines
Half awake
But then we saw this bee
The first of the season--of life, for my daughter
She crouched, hushed, and looked at me before turning her large eyes back to this spectacle of joy
A hard day's work feels good.
But what is it for?
Know where you're going
Be where you are
A billion galaxies
A single star
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