How Are You?

I remember piano lessons long ago. I remember my mom driving me to this fancy house a town or two over. I remember the immaculate lawns. I remember the two-story windows in the living room where my teacher’s grand piano sat.

I remember sitting head to shoulder to my teacher, looking up at her face. Her genuine smile greeting me each week.

“How are you?”

Like clockwork I’d dribble out the same meek “Fine.”

One week, exasperated, she exclaimed, “You can’t always be just fine!”

My mind exploded, but my mouth stayed shut. “Okay, all right, how am I? Well, that’s a tough question. Do you really want to know? Will you remain my piano teacher? Or are you prepared to become my savior? How about I just give you a quick rundown of my most recent suicidal thoughts…”

She clearly wasn’t able to see that fine was an aspirational goal for me at that point.

I wanted to be fine. For that hour, just let me be fine!

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Mister Paul’s Blame Pudding

It is foolish to prioritize verbal communication. But, it seems our words take center stage, while we disregard information delivered through a glance, gesture or maybe even arson.

I present Rand Paul’s recent spat with his neighbor.

Mr. Paul suffered five broken ribs when his neighbor tackled him to the ground while Paul was mowing his lawn. This sounds shocking! What could have spurred this violent, unprovoked attack on a sitting U.S. Senator?

Sticks. Piles of sticks.

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…Not Much Else

Making stuff is my momentary antidote to the relentless focus of my annoying brain. 
This might be why I find a great deal of comfort in making things.

Having a project to complete is like a chew toy for my brain.

Going too long without a new project can lead me on a path to creeping thoughts, and an easier slide into the spiral.

It can be so easy to slip too. Most don’t see my brain nudging me towards the lip. Most don’t see me desperately clinging to that last bit of sane. That bit that prevents me from plummeting down, spiraling into dread.

It calls to me like a distant song on repeat. “You’re not good enough, You’re not capable. Your career is meaningless and your brain generates useless ideas. You’ve always been dead on arrival.”

Making things can often help momentarily mute that song.

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