Making Sense of Nonsense

It’s 10 am on a Wednesday. I’m sitting at the coffee shop — and I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.

Yup, it’s one of those days.

. . .

I used to know where the bottom was

Somewhere far under the ocean waves

Upon on a ledge, I was looking down it wasn’t enough to keep me safe

But the ground was cracked open, threw me in the ocean

Cast me away to sea

And the waves are still breaking, now that I awaken

No one’s left to answer me

My inside’s out, my left is right,

My upside’s down, my black is white

I hold my breath and close my eyes

And wait for dawn, but there’s no light

Nothing makes sense anymore, anymore

Nothing makes sense anymore, anymore

Nothing makes sense anymore, anymore

Nothing makes sense anymore. — Mike Shinoda, Nothing Makes Sense Anymore

. . .

Inspired by Autumn Karen and her publication Spill Them Beans, I thought I would turn my attention to introspection — and work my way from the inside out.

My mind is spinning, swirling with endless possibilities as I sit here and sip my coffee. Is my divorce ever going to end? Are my kids safe at school today? Will the weight of the world ever feel lighter than it does right now? Will I ever love again? Will I ever have sex again? Am I going to die alone?

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. . .

I had so much certainty

‘Til the moment I lost control

And I’ve tried, but it never was up to me

I’ve got no worst enemy

Than the fear of what’s still unknown

And the times come to realize there will be

Promises I can’t keep. — Mike Shinoda, Promises I Can’t Keep

. . .

It’s in these moments, and on days like today, where I force myself to face myself and find out what I’m made of. I quietly look up from my laptop and see the abstract black, white, and red wallpaper; my eyes move down and slightly to the right. I spot the elegantly lined up Peet’s swag and four glass pour-over coffee carafes resting on the top shelf, and I think to myself: I am made of grit, grace, and superhuman strength for growing as much as I have over the last few years. I’m fueled by cycling, carnality, caffeine, and a lot of humor about myself, humans, and this life in general. And it’s on days like today when I ride my bike to the coffee shop and find out how I want to show up in this world.

I used to think that I knew who I was

Never saw it coming unglued

. . .

About Them Beans

Who: Soul-Searching Sally.
Where: Peet’s Coffee — somewhere in California, at an undisclosed location.
When: September 2021 — Wednesday morning, the first day of Fall, at 10 am-ish.
What I’m drinking: Medium (hot) sugar-free vanilla latte with almond milk.

*And my own component to STB guidelines because what’s life without coffee and music?:

What I’m listening to on Spotify: Post Traumatic (Deluxe Version) by Mike Shinoda.

. . .

They take it slow

But the world keeps spinning

And that I don’t control

And so there I go

Tryin to act normal

so they won’t know that

I’m just trying to hold my shit together

together darling. — Mike Shinoda, Hold It Together

. . .

I am reaching out to anyone reading this, hoping you do whatever you need to do to hold your shit together today, and seeking a response to the following question:

Who do you see today?

Qaisra Joham, Sikder Diamond, Emily Kingsley, Gabriella Korosi, Luther Thomas Jr, Ann Syson, B. Élisse Smith, Bret Itskowitch, and Douglas Caraballo.

—

This post was previously published on Spill Them Beans.

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