good luck, __________

How do we juggle perspective? Does it require special gloves? Do they sell them at Marden’s? How do we keep from becoming smeared ash as a result of irreversible guilt? 
Many of our lives are perfectly flipped pancakes. 

I’ve been known to have a bad day here and there. Apparently they see it in my face. I don’t. I squeeze but my slimy eyeballs stay in their sockets. All I see is the fringe of a heavy brow.  Little spider legs caress my eyelids. Once, as a hairdresser was dusting off little sharp hairs from the back of my neck, he said “I can take care of those for you”. I left before he could acquire the tweezers. I thought that was a bad day. 

What’s a bad day? 
An out of tune clarinet? A broken drumhead? A missed litter box?
Chump change. 

I read this morning that a refugee wrapped his entire life savings in rubber and ate it before fleeing, to avoid theft. They had to surgically remove it in the Netherlands. He had $1800 dollars in his stomach. I swallowed a quarter once. It was terrible. 

I don’t have advice on how to process all of the things happening in this world, other than to seriously try. Read books. Study history. Watch the news. Don’t watch the news. Get on a plane. Drive your car. March. 

Sit for a long time in a foreign place and wonder what it feels like to be: that guy with the weird, greasy, velvet jacket. How did all of that grease get there? To be the lady with the flower dress. What’s her favorite kind of soup? To be that chickadee with the gum wrapper in it’s mouth. Why does a bird like gum? To be you, sitting around in a park. Watching. Listening. Feeling. 

When you find the things that make you cringe, that make you numb, that take your breath- don’t run. Don’t hide. Marinate. Plan. Act. 

Good luck, __________________________, juggler of perspective. 
                                                                  (your name here)