i'm sorry...

when we drove past you, i critically said (out loud) that you had corny biking gear and an expensive bike and i criticized you for not really "riding" the way i would if i had the same gear. in this moment, i was expressing all that is ugly in me. for this, i am sorry. you didn't know i said what i did. and i have no clue what the rest of your life consists of. what i do know is that i was acting out of my own insecurities. being so incredibly judgemental was young and small and ugly. i am trying so hard to be more present, to not judge, and to certainly not criticize to make myself feel better. being mean was my false medication. and i used you on that particular day. i was put in my place. karma is a bitch. and i commit to doing my best to work that ugly side of me into something constructive. i am sorry...

the progression of race...

what is your immediate reaction to someone asking, "what are you?" if you are able answer without referring to some physical marking which visually identifies you, think about why? why is it a "political statement" when i "choose" to say an urban kid? or a father? or a lover? or a dork? and why do people always say, "you know what i mean..." as if i should know they mean race and ethnicity. isn't it my choice how i identify myself? and what will, "what are you?" mean when we are all some lighter shade of brown? will it mean are you rich? poor? fat? skinny? and imagine the looks if i said happy? or in love? and why are "skin-colored" band-aids not for me? this conversation is TBD baby!

twisted minds...

some days, it all reads so clearly...career, family, partner, the weather, electoral politics, life. and other days, i feel i live in a polluted haze, filled with strife, confusion, worry, and fear. in the past, willing my way out of the fog was the only method i knew. put yourself in your safe environment. isolate yourself. go to sleep. eat lots of ice cream. but these are temporary fixes. what is really going on in this dome? is the fact that i am in a new kind of love i have never known have something to do with the haze? or is it providing those moments of incredible clarity and passion? is the thought of grad school frightening me? or is it driving my motor? so many questions and a mind twisted into hot scrap metal. as i begin to understand how to solve this puzzle and mold my metal into a finished product, i will try to enjoy this ride...