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What it should be.

On the shuttle to work this morning, adrift in a sea of North Face jackets and jeans and sneakers, I held onto my thermal mug of tea and marveled at how we never ever get very far from high school. The seats may be softer, but we bounce around just the same.

I have read too much about what content on the web should be. I admit to being very tired of this “should be” talk, external or internal. I would take a side, but taking a side means there are sides to take. We can argue about who is doing it better, whose content is more important, but how does that work, exactly? Are journal entries less important than reviews of iPhone apps? Who decides this, and why?

My first taiko class taught me something I forgot: be still, eyes open, and embrace the lack of knowledge. There was lots of joyful drum-pounding, too, of course. But the most enjoyable aspect of it all was not knowing anything about it, absorbing, failing, and learning. The new job is like this too, albeit with less failure yet because mentors are ever-present.

Waking at six in the morning, I always feel a little drunk. The house is dark and the cats snuggle in closer to the other human and the walls and floor seem to shift as my eyes adjust or don’t. Characters from bad dreams slouch around the corners, smirk at my stumbles. I see the shade of you in the black hallway, and I cannot tell if you are walking toward me or away.

Northern California sky

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.

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