“ 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
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