De-Inventing My Life

Guys, what are we doing with our lives again? 

I can’t be the only one Wondering with a capital W.

It’s all so humbling.

And there are hours and days to fill up. 

So.

If you want to stare at the ceiling and go AHHHH as it all falls into place — 400 years of brutal American capitalism built on the backs of the cotton industry, which was built on the backs of kidnapped and enslaved African people, then listen to this:

If you want to be buoyed up by the brilliant spirit of Robbie Roberston from The Band, and be transported back to a time and place full of creativity and the coolest cats, and hear wonderful music and cry because friendship is such a gorgeous damn thing but no one could save Levon Helm after all (as every addict must save themselves), then watch this:

If you want to walk the streets of your city shoulder to shoulder with beautiful strangers singing protest songs and being present, with your body, despite a pandemic, because racial justice is that fucking crucial — crucial enough that we must put our lives on the line — and if you want to feel invigorated with raw hope because the voice of the streets has momentum and power in a way that sitting locked away in our homes, on our phones, sharing memes on a platform we know makes money off hate speech just doesn’t, then do this: 

If you want to juice up on that electric nature stuff, including rampant wildflowering, ankle-aching ice-cold river crossings, and staring into the looking glass of a mountain lake at sunset, which was pretty peaceful until the wind kicked up and scraped your brain clean as sparks from the campfire flew like shooting stars, then do this: