Little Pieces of Living


For the past two months I lived with 27 people in New Mexico.

All of these things were new to me. And now it’s over.

None of those pieces of the past are as real as the present moment: me, sitting on a couch in SF. I hear cars drive by, my keyboard clacking, and a car alarm going off. All of these things feel more real than all of the crazy, life-changing experience I just lived through.

I’m a bit sad that I’m not still living in New Mexico. I can’t walk outside and see mountains in my backyard, or have an adorable dog named Nala run into the house and jump on me.

But these past two months I lived.

And I can choose to feel alive now, in all of these little pieces of living:

“Let me be something every minute of every hour of my life. Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm. Let me be hungry. Let me be ragged or well dressed. Let me be sincere - be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar. Let me be honorable and let me sin. Only let me be something every blessed minute. And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.”