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February 12, 2020: Loose Change

Change is a good thing – we humans don’t always embrace it because it goes against what we most think we need, which is an adherence to routine. And when change affects aspects of our lives in general, we tend to get edgy. What follows is a letter to my parents, one in which I acknowledge that change is a constant.

Dear Mom and Dad,

I am writing you knowing that you both have been watching what’s been going on in my life from afar. You both have taken on a different form – you’re now light fields, ones emanating positive energy. You may be a part of a collective light field, yes, this is most likely what you are. I can’t imagine because I am here and you are elsewhere.

I suspect you know what I’ve been up to. I don’t think I lucked into the Bright Lights Book Project. I think you both pushed me in this direction. I do not know if you know how I am dealing with this or feel about it. I don’t even know if I know myself. Hindsight takes the form of memory, and memory is subjective. We create our own reality based on what we perceive to be truisms.

Tyra and Hrimmi behind the hay shed
Tyra and Hrimmi behind the hay shed

Yeah, so I am in the midst of this huge book project. I walk in the door of the recycling center and I am greeted by people who are happy to see me. And I am happy to see them. I put on a reflective vest and my so-called workday begins.

My job revolves around books and where they go. I confer with others about this, then go downstairs and start moving them around. Today I moved children’s books upstairs – a crew of four cleaned and sorted them. And two of the crew are soon to go online and see if some might be sold. I also boxed and catalogued sale books.

Here’s the catch. It does not appear as though I am going to be paid for my ongoing efforts. I have been told Pete is board member, and so this is a conflict of interest. I learned this late on Monday night, after spending the evening sorting. I bitched about it some. But then as we were driving home, I looked out the car window and I saw the snow swirling across the road under the light of the full moon – and suddenly was overcome with a sense of calm. It would be easiest, for the sake of this narrative, to say that I immediately knew what I should do. But the truth is, I’m a slow processor (or so I’ve been told), so it sometimes takes a while for me to figure things out.

Mom and Dad – this is what I figured out. I am not going to grovel for minimum wage pay. It’s not worth the time, effort, or duress. I would just as soon stand around on a street corner with a sign that says Will Work for Food. My gloves seldom match so my hands would get too cold.

I feel good about this decision – in part because this complements my project vision. Anyhow, my feet remain firmly on the ground.

Your daughter from afar,


Next: 44. 2/13/20: The Other Side of the Fence

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