My secret nickname for myself is Sketch.

It’s a beautiful day! Gray, heavy, still, humid, quiet.. my typing is the perfect accent to it all. Also this green viney plant thing growing in front of me. And this wine glass half-full of water. Soft, lukewarm water.

I don’t have anything important to blog about, but I did have one lil’ seed of a thought that I thought might grow once I started typing about it. Typing, man. Does something to my brain. Stimulates it. That’s what it does.

People are always giving advice. Giving wisdom. Giving opinions. Giving whatever they have. They value it, so they assume I’ll value it. Sometimes, actually the majority of the time, I totally do. Perspective is the, um, middle-stabilizing-piece to the see-saw of life. Keeps everybody guessing, but at least steady. At least, that’s my perspective (you see?!).

Something I find myself doing more often these days is ASKing for perspective. At first it felt absolutely wrong. “I don’t need someone else’s take on life, I’d bETTer be able to do life on my own, because I’ll never know anybody is trustworthy for sure!” She said. It’s just lousy though, trudging through time only looking for a place to insert your truth. Everybody’s doing it, but nobody’s really interested in anybody else’s truth. We all just want to be right. And for everybody to know it.

But I don’t know.

And neither do you.

So.. perspective. Asking what you see, over there from beHiNd the elephant, will give me a better understanding of what the elephant might look (and act, sound, smell, taste– ew) like. So why not? I can never be in your shoes. I can never really know what that side of the elephant is like, so even if you’re blind, deaf, dumb, paralyzed, can’t smell, or are a straight-up liar– what’s the harm going to be?

None. So the next obvious question (in my head) is, but why? What’s the point? Why should I? I’d been thinking about this for a few months recently, and then one day last week, some random schmoe (teehee) asked me, ME, point-blank, my personal perspective on a thing. Actually a number of things. And I’ve been halfway between bewildered and sobbing ever since. The reason, I think, that honestly desiring to hear and understand other peoples’ perspectives is important– at least in my own life– is that it connects us. A bond of sorts is created there, that just. feels. right. No matter if it’s reciprocated or even scorned. When I earnestly desire another human being’s “light” as the Bible calls our eyes– in a certain.. weird, don’t-read-too-much-into-this way, we are “one.” And I like that. It makes me like people I wouldn’t normally like. It makes me like me too. In a good way.


In other news, I have three new friends. And I like them all so much. One especially.

In other news, I am losing touch with The Andy Griffith Show. Several times this week I’ve had the perfect situation posed to me to throw a quote in, and I could. not. remember the quote. I’m getting angsty about this. Probably need to start watching it again.

In other news,  I’m going to the doctor Monday. And am mildly tremulous at the thought.

In other news, I’m taking a sabbatical after the doctor gets out of me on Monday.

In other news, I miss kittens.

In other news, I have a friend in Jesus.

That’s all, folks!

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