sunday. life's rest stop

“ How did I get here exactly?” Seems to be a question I’m asking myself right now.

It’s Sunday. The sun is beautiful. I really am not looking at the screen as I’m typing this. I’m just staring at the little bit of green grass that thinly covers Woodward Ave. Dandelions percolating abundantly!

How did I get here?

All those struggles that you face externally and internally throughout the week just disapate on Sundays. For me it’s almost as if your brain gives you breathing room to just enjoy where you are at…

“ God gave us one day one to wonder and rejoice”

Well the battery pack is running low on this computer, so this is trim..

Most of my life is working with the poor. Questioning so much of their and my placement in this culture… the fact it’s a privilege to just take ayear to wonder and struggle by choice!

So I dOn’t know! It’s kind of nice to be a yuppie right now in this café, only worrying about “ Is there enough half and half in my red eye?” “ Does this laptop make me look pretentious?”

Sundays were made to wonder and rejoice

Not sure how to start

I’m not sure exactly why I’m doing this. Well no, I take that back I .. I do.
I’ve been living, working, sleeping, eating here in Detroit for a good 8 months now and I’ve just realized I needed a good journal.
Online… but you know.. Not really to announce to the world my life. More just to organize this paradoxical cornucopia of events that happens at work and at home..
The last time I journalized my thoughts online was 8 months ago www.deadjournal.com/users/stinkyweasel
And I was thinking today that so much goes on that I need to start storing some of these thoughts, these experiences, these weird circumstances that I probably could only experience this year as a volunteer in Detroit…

I don’t know quite where to start….. The resource rooms that I help run Mondays and Wednesdays is really quite. There’s a regular Ken Wells checking his e-mail ( who’ve I kicked out once for looking at porn) and a off and on guy who I don’t quite know his name…
We’ve got the door open right now, a refreshing cool wind is blowing pass Jefferson into our small office…
I might save stories and thoughts for next time. ( this first post is really dry!! But I’ve got to start somewhere! )