Tried roller skating this weekend. Made it roughly (barely) halfway out of the locker room before practically (actually) falling over. So then I took the skates off and spent the rest of the evening vibing to the DJs and people watching (cringing in sympathy whenever someone else fell over).
I used to rollerblade (give or take twenty+ years) and I recall, from the mists of time, having enjoyed it. There is always something liberating about being on wheels. There’s also something liberating about being bad at things (though, ideally, not in a way that includes the potential for injury).
Routines, even when they feel claustrophobic, can also feel safe. I am trying to choose (without breaking a wrist) a path slightly less travelled.
divisions grow stronger.
That’s what “chosen” and “unchosen” will do.
(Just keep your eyes on your houses and gardens.
Keep your eyes on that tree in bloom.)
Yes, a wall. Ours came later but. . .
who talks about how sad the land looks,
marked by a massive wall?
That’s not a normal shadow.
It’s something else looming over your lives.
— from A Palestinian Might Say by Naomi Shihab Nye