Historically, I’ve been selective about posting about politics. It’s messy and invites conflict; it rarely feels productive. But I wrote something the other day that felt true and, I think, is worth repeating:
“I believe so many of the people in my life who have supported him and still support him would say they are voting for ‘principles rather than personalities,’ but when you’re dealing with the levels we seem to be at, at some point the personality has become the principle, and there is no way to separate the two.”
I like what I said, so I say it again unapologetically.
I’ve been taking in some of the Epstein files, and my gut wants to purge—to projectile-vomit what I’ve ingested right out.
I don’t want to believe that monsters like these exist. That they continue to prowl among our babies.
Wanting something not to be true is a flawed coping strategy.
Two bruises remain on my right quad from when I was hit by a car this past September. The other day, I noticed a slight dent as well.
We don’t always know why some things go and others remain.
These are some of life’s mysteries.
The older I get, the smarter and dumber I become. I’ve learned so much, yet I’m clearer about how much is foggy.
If you watch this short clip, raise the volume if you dare.
The grunts and screams punctuate my feeble effort.
I am profoundly less powerful than I once thought I was. I always have been, I just didn’t know it.
However.
With what little impact I may have in my hands, I’ll grapple with the weight and swing.
I hope the mark I leave reveals the truth.
Even if it’s only a dent, I hope my impact is good. And somehow, I hope that good dent remains even if the bruises fade.