2:45am
Waiting for the light
It’s 2:45am. I have a bullet list of ideas and none of them are lighting a fire in my belly. I have four posts that I’ve already started and are sitting in drafts. None of them feel inspiring. It’s Friday and I have yet to get my Saturday morning post ready.
On our Thursday night Zoom, Ethan asked me what I was going to be writing this week. I gave him a lukewarm, bullshit sort of an answer: “Oh, I have a few things in the works. I’ve been thinking about community. I dunno. That piece on my path to spirituality through sexuality isn’t close to ready.”
He nods, adjusts his headphones, and scratches the back of his neck. We sit in silence for a minute. I think my 24 year-old kiddo is holding the container to give me room to think…or maybe to connect with my feelings.
It’s 2:56am and my coffee is warm. Shadow has the zoomies and is desperate to get outside, but it’s still dark. The rule is it has to be light before she can go outside. I’ve told her this multiple times. She’s not a good listener. She IS a really good communicator—her needs are made very clear. Lately, that major desire is to get outside to kill some mice, which I appreciate despite the fact that this practice results in a constant need to pull out the Virex and clean up after she proudly displays her handiwork on the bedroom floor.
Why does the word ‘handiwork’ look so weird?
It’s 3:17am and I am clearly attempting to distract myself.
There is so much richness in my life right now and the world is burning. Who am I to write about connection, creativity, and play at a time like this?
I want to scream and throw myself on the ground keening. I can’t even start grieving yet because the atrocities keep coming—it’s beyond salt in a wound that’s been trying to heal, it’s gasoline and a lit match and constant burning flesh but then you look up and see a hawk circling the early morning sky and you want to lean into the beauty, but the urgency of your impending consumption distracts you and you don’t have water or a blanket to help put out the fire.
It’s 3:45am. I pick up my pen and add to the list of things I need to get the next time I head into town: plug for the kitchen sink, rug for yurt, TV tray. I make a note to stop at Goodwill.
What’s the use of diving into this recent revelation about my path to spirituality? Who cares that the oracle card I pulled during my morning practice was ‘Sisters of the Spring Swallow, Good Fortune Granted?’ Or that my storytelling workshop ended Wednesday night and I’m going to miss those vulnerable humans I just spent 8-weeks with on Zoom sharing our lives together? Or the reply I got from Jeremy, who I just met a few months ago at Karaoke Night, saying ‘Yay!’ in a group text when I let folx know I’d be able to show up next Wednesday night? Or that I don’t understand why some adults think it’s hard to make new friends?
It’s 3:53am. My coffee is cold. Shadow is sitting by the sliding glass door staring into the nighttime and waiting for the light.
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Here's what I keep thinking about. You spent eight weeks with vulnerable humans in a storytelling workshop. You pulled oracle cards. You're planning to show up to karaoke. You're writing at 2:45am because you care about your Saturday readers even when nothing feels inspiring.
Mel. This whole piece is about mattering. It's about Shadow communicating her needs clearly and you showing up for your people and Ethan holding space and the richness that exists right alongside the burning. You're not distracting yourself from the real work. You're doing it. The analog letters, the messy love lab, the showing up even when it's hard. That's not separate from responding to the world's pain. It's how we survive it without going numb. You matter, and what you do for the world matters. I just love you. 🧡
Also, handiwork does look weird. You're right about that.
Who cares? I care. Look, the world is burning right now, but not writing and not being creative will definitely not change that. The way I see it, negativity and terrible news is guaranteed, we have lots of that. But goodness and kindness and happiness, we need so much more of that. If we'd all stop putting out positive and beautiful stuff, the only guarantee we have is that the world would be even suckier.