lessons in the untangling(and retangling)

prose on the incredible difficulty and blessing of existing.

song to accompany: Jars of It- Steve Lacy

Life is so relentless, unbelievably wrapped in, out, around, and through itself—a tangled string of tomorrows, yesterdays; promises, truths, lies; questions, sometimes answers, but mostly confusion.

Each day, you must wake up and face the tangled mess in front of you; freeing up small stretches of string on good days, losing progress to the knotted giant on bad ones. And on the worst days, all you long for is to stretch your limbs, but they're all tied up, caught in the mess, waiting for delicate fingers to untangle, fold in prayer, and reach for others.

This relentlessness isn't a bad thing; it's what makes us alive. However, that fact alone doesn't prepare you to deal with it all. There is much to be learned in the detangling (and retangling).

In the process of detangling, I learn to navigate my body, mind, and soul. I discover my weaknesses and strengths. Music, art, and dance give me miles of free space to play and create. Laughter sonically loosens a bound heart.

In the act of retangling, the cracks of broken hearts grow deeper. Isolation echoes. Hands forget to hold and fold. Souls no longer yearn.

In both states, I wonder: How do you write about today when yesterday still has your fingers caught? How do you plan for tomorrow while today still whispers in your ear? Why can't my mouth hardly form 'hello' or 'goodbye'?

On any given day, you have an assignment due at 11:59 pm that you have not yet started. You have a complicationship that hasn't texted back and one that won't leave you alone. You put on pants. You tie your shoes. You have a crush who sits in the back corner of class, and you don't know his name. You laugh with friends. You get irritated at strangers. You walk past someone you used to know. You forget to call home. You have laundry to fold. And when you get home at the end of it all, there are probably dishes in the sink too.

Life is relentless.

Lately, my prayers sound like: thank you, I'm sorry, ...tomorrow.