An unpredictable, wild ride, baby.

Hello all my lovely humans. I am so glad to be back this week. Of course, I missed last weeks post due to the holiday. And by holiday I mean the day where we recognize, discuss, and find ways to take action for the injustices done to Native folks on their stolen land while we eat a strange amount of turkey (or in my case tofurkey) and potatoes. I assume you all did the same and if for some reason you were struggling to think of ways to take action I might recommend starting with shopping from Native shops this holiday season. [I’ll tag a few here: Ink Stitcher Studios, ArXotica, Sister Sky, Indigenous Cosmetics, and Beyond Bucksin. (**If you have any others please feel free to comment on this post with a link.)]

As for this week we are on to the next holiday and it just happens to be my favorite one of all: Sarah’s 30th Birthday. I know you all thought I was about to say Christmas. I laugh in the face of Christmas. *hahahaha* My Birthday TM is obviously much more important. In all seriousness though, on Friday December 4th, I will be another year AND another decade older. One of the reasons I love my bday so much is because it gives me a chance to reflect on the year behind and the year ahead. Shocking, I love to reflect. It’s not like my entire blog is based around this idea or anything.

So, let’s start with the year behind. On December 4th, 2019 I was on a date. It was actually a very sweet date that ended quite nicely. He ghosted me two weeks later. As the great Fall Out Boy once played on repeat in my little teen ear “thanks for the memories, even though they weren’t so great.” That seemed to be a theme for the beginning of my 29th year. Date, they ghost, date, I ghost, date, I break up, date, they break up. And so on and so forth. Also, a big theme of my 29th year was the GLOBAL PANDEMIC. I.e. crisis, depression, anxiety, unhealthy coping skills, all the good stuff. I did also move which was exciting. Still in Brooklyn, but a spot that is much more me and much more affordable. I get along well with my roommates and the loneliness that was brought on by the pandemic simply disappeared. My supervisor/friend/advocate passed away in July after my move. I think about you every day, Vilma. We all experienced a lot of loss this year; painful, heartbreaking loss. It’s made me hold my loved ones closer. Speaking of loved ones, in August my original theme of dating was flipped on its head when I met my current partner. The real shocker of my 29th year- he didn’t ghost me! There’s still a chance, it’s only been like 4 months and even though he is currently quarantining with me he could leave at any moment. Men ain’t sh*t, amiright? Just kidding, he’s great. I also started anti-depressants… that’s the true win of my 29th year. My mood has been the most stable it has ever been AND I think about dying wayyyy less. Woah, truly an incredible year I had. Oh, and I got a soda stream. That was cool.

All of this is to say that while 2020 objectively was a real sh*tshow, I had a lot of really wildly unexpected good things happen to me this past year. I don’t think I ever could’ve predicted that the year we go into lockdown is the year I would get it together. Kinda cool. Which then begs the question where do I go from here? In a recent conversation someone asked me where I see myself in 5 years… I hate this question with a burning, fiery passion. At 25 if you asked me where I saw myself in 5 years I can tell you I did not see myself wearing a mask to work everyday, or only riding my bike to get there, or having to primarily communicate with my friends and family via FaceTime. I don’t know where I will be in 5 years, that’s the beauty of living. It is an unpredictable, wild ride baby and I am here for it.

Honestly, I sort of blanked when the question was first tossed out. Then, with a deep breath I said “probably still doing this”. “What is this?” you may be asking. Well, it’s me loving harder than I have ever loved before- both myself and others; it is doing work that makes me feel good; it is knowing that I am worthy, with or without work; it is breathing and moving and thinking and writing and learning. In five years I will, with all the luck in the world, be alive.

I can’t just end the post there though. See, I also like to dream about things, things that may or may not happen for me; like being a billionaire and having kids and owning my own business and writing a book. While some of these things may seem outlandish, some of these things are totally obtainable. By some of these things, I particularly mean one of these things, which is why I am so excited for the next chapter in my life, pun intended. I am finally going to start writing a book. This is a dream that I sat on in my 20’s and with the new decade approaching, I am ready to dive in. I came to this conclusion, when over the weekend my best friend gifted me a present for my 30th birthday (image below). She had compiled all of my blog poems into a hard cover book. I can’t even explain the feeling I got when I saw it. It reminded me of this dream and woke me up to how much I really want to accomplish this goal. And not to sound like an overbearing mother towards myself, but “it ain’t gonna write itself, honey.”

Of course writing a book will definitely cut into my blog time, so my plan is to write a post *hopefully* once a month. I still want to explore the ups and downs of life with you all, so don’t you worry about that. As for the book… I don’t know where it will go, but I do know I am going to have fun doing it. Perhaps, in another 10 years, I’ll still be trying to write it or maybe I’ll be onto my second or third. What was that thing I said about wild and unpredictable? Oh right, that’s life baby.

So, with that all being said, I’m going to work hard and type to you in January, cuties. I hope your holidays and New Year are, if nothing else, another day you get to be alive.

A[wo]men

each decade

return to yourself

as the waves

return to the sea

-turning 30

A Butterfly Spirit

Hi, friends. A lot has happened in the last two weeks, but I don’t want to talk about most of them. Most of them are minuscule and irrelevant at this point in time. This is not to diminish my experiences, but rather to express the fact that I’ve experienced a great loss this week. A loss changes your world, alters your perception, and minimizes all else around you. This past week my supervisor, my work advocate, my friend passed away- Vilma.

She was the light during one of the darkest times in my working life. I would work with her often and sit in her office. She had the worlds softest giggle that made things just seem like they would be okay. Vilma was an employee for 31 years, so her knowledge of the job was invaluable. I would often sit with her as she described what the role was like ‘back in the day’ and all the major changes along the way. During this time of uncertainty she would always say “Sarah, I’ve seen some really hard times here before. We’ll get through this.” She shared stories of her youth, how she would always leave her hair long and natural like I do and would only wear skirts and dresses, unlike I do.

We would often sit laughing at the fact that she had an iPhone 6 that refused to hold a charge. She would say to me “Sarah, come look at this. It’s at 15% and I haven’t used it all day!” I would ask her why she didn’t just get a new phone all the time and she always said, “eh, it still works though. Why would I get a new one?” And we would both giggle. She told me she loved her phone before this one and would still have it to this day if it didn’t shatter in her hands. We laughed at how the pieces of her old phone just broke. She thought it was a defect in the way it came apart. She made it clear to me thought that she didn’t need anything fancy, she just needed things to work. I admired this about her.

She also had a love for sweets. On my lunch break she would often give me her Starbucks gift card to pick her up a Frappuccino to help her get through the day. The last few times I worked with her I also would grab us both lunch to ease her need to walk far. Through this I learned that she loved Italian subs, with extra mayo, and Cole slaw on the side. She would also always want me to grab her a shake, but last minute would say- no I don’t need that, maybe next time. I wish I got her the milkshakes anyway. She would make hot cocoa in the break room, even on hot days when she needed a “quick fix”. Her face would light up when our coworkers would bring in donuts or bake sweet treats. I loved to see her smile.

She talked to me a lot about her family. It was clear she loved her family more than anything in the world. I got to hear stories of her father who worked in fancy hotels, and the stories he would tell her and the way he watched the landscape of New York City change over time. She spoke of her parents unending energy, even as they aged. She told me how much she hopes to have that much energy when she gets older. I wish I was right when I said “I bet you will, it runs in your family.” She should’ve have gotten that chance.

Her room was a spectacle and every patient that entered would say “I love all your decorations.” I wish I could’ve taken credit, but I’d always respond with “unfortunately, it’s not my room, but it’s my favorite room to work in.” Vilma was a big fan of tchotchke’s many of which she had collected over the years of working. I could spend hours sitting in her office discovering things I had no idea were there before. My favorite was a sign that read ‘kindness is always free” something Vilma always lived by. It sat across from where our patients sat, so I always wondered if it also served as a reminder for those sitting in that chair. Not that they would need it- Vilma was so kind it just radiated and permeated those around her.

Over the last few days I went from sadness that took over my entire body, to anger, to complete numbness. I knew writing this post would help me break out of feeling numb and enter a stage of feeling complete luck for having known such a beautiful person (while also feeling continued sadness). Writing and talking about my memories just reminds me that she was right when she said “I’ve seen some really hard times before. We’ll get through this.” The thought of getting through this without her is hard to imagine, but I know I can. She has given me strength over these last few months and will continue to be a guiding light for me. She may be gone, but her warmth, kindness, and maternal energy will always be with me.

I hope wherever you are, Vilma, there are endless shakes and sweets. I love you.

A[wo]men

your voice,

a memory.

ingrained forever-

soft,

gentle,

calm.

-a butterfly spirit

Erin Riley: #momlife

Welcome to the third installment of my interview sessions. I am so excited about this weeks storyteller because it is my first family member to be interviewed. As some of you know, I am the sister to four other girls. That’s right, 5 daughters… “my poor dad” yada yada yada. Erin is the second oldest of the group. As my interview began with Erin she was tiptoeing around her house finding a spot that she can speak a little louder than a whisper because her youngest son had just gone down for a nap.

“Dude, I didn’t know this was going to be on FaceTime. I did not prepare for this.”

I would liken her look to a mom with a sick kid. Comfy PJ clothes and hair pulled back lightly to keep it from her eyes. Even still though, Erin always has this petite-blondie-mom glow about her, even when she’s sharing that she’s been up too long nursing her son’s fever away. She is a mama warrior as you will read about throughout her story. However, I always like to start with the basics.

“[Erin] how did we meet?”

“Girl, I known you since you were born. So yeah..”

“Do you remember me being born?”

“I remember Corie [the oldest sister] was super upset because we were in Florida. This was crazy. Back in the day, yo, mom and dad stuck us on a plane by ourselves and asked the flight attendant to keep an eye on us… and then nan and pop-pop got us off in Florida.”

Erin’s demeanor at this point is one of pure astonishment. It was clear in her body language that the idea of putting her boys on a plane by themselves would not be in the cards anytime soon. One of my favorite things about hearing stories from Erin, is being able to read how she would feel in that position. She is someone who wears her heart on her sleeve and does not hide how she is feeling from anyone, except perhaps her customers that she serves at the diner down the road. Customer service calls for masking true emotions, unfortunately.

“Corie was super worried. She was like *in scared child voice* ‘I just feel like mom is going to have the baby while we’re gone’ and I don’t think she did. I think it was after we got back… It was so bizarre. And I remember we met a lady on the plane that ugh… kept saying ‘Look I see the moon’ and then she would sing ‘made you look, made you look, made you buy a penny book.'”

We both laughed at the absurdity of the whole situation. It was clear that this was a memory to Erin that was both strange and exciting. Another little sister was on the way and she was getting treated like a real older sister. She got to ride a plane and go to Florida without her parents.

As we continued it was clear that Erin often thinks of her own childhood experiences as she is raising her own children. Erin is the proud mother, as I am the proud Auntie Rahrah, of two boys, Elias (7) and Sampson (1). Erin takes her role as mom very seriously and her passion for being a mother was clear in our conversation.

One of the exciting parts about getting to do these interviews with people is seeing what story comes up as we sit together. I have zero expectations as to what story people are going to tell me and this often makes the reader feel a little overwhelmed at first, but as we talk, it is clear there is a story that has been waiting to get out all along. I was especially excited to hear what story Erin had to tell because, as a sibling, it was exciting to see what she felt comfortable telling me.

“So, [Erin] what story would you like to tell?”

“I don’t know it’s hard.. I know you’re all about self love…”

“It can literally be about whatever you want to talk about. It doesn’t have to be something you feel you have to talk about or that you think would fit in this space. What is your story?”

Exhales deeply “Ugh.. that’s a tough one. It is cuz I mean I don’t know… I was thinking about talking about how hard it is raising kids and the strain on trying to figure Eli out with his attitudes and all this digital sh*t that we didn’t have growing up and I try to think back and it’s like we were never that big into playing video games. I mean we watched a lot of TV but I don’t think then it was like ‘oh TV’s bad. It was like oh good, something to keep them occupied, get’s them out of your hair.’ Plus, we were still all over the freakin’ place and they wouldn’t call us in until like night time and we would watch TV then.”

“Okay, let’s start with this then. What would you say it was like before you had kids? Do you remember?”

“At the time it was great, but looking back I’m like.. how boring! There was just no purpose to it. And not saying that everyone needs to have kids to have a purpose, but for us it was like we were bartending and at the bars every night. It was all about this party or that one, and I mean I still want to go to a party every now and again or go see music or whatever but I don’t know… Now there are more important things for me.  Like there are these people depending on you and trying to make sure they grow up to not be a**holes and that’s f****ing hard. It’s really hard. Especially when I’m a yeller and I don’t want to be a yeller, but I’m a yeller. And that’s part of the reason that Eli gets yell-y and stomp-y when he’s mad because that’s how I am and I’ve been trying to change it. I’ve actually been reading this book called ‘Happy child, peaceful parent’ or whatever.”

*giggling*

“And I’ve told Eli before when he get’s all pissed that I’m like ‘you know man, I know that I yell sometimes and that’s not right and I’m trying to change it and I want you to know that I don’t want you to grow up and be like this and yell and have to work on your anger and that’s why I’m trying to work on it with you now’… and I don’t know if he get’s it or not but maybe who knows?”

As she is talking her hands are playing with her hair and she is looking off as if this is not the first time she’s had this conversation with herself. I can tell she often reflects on her behaviors and the way she influences her children. Erin is a mom that is constantly working to improve so that she can show her children how to improve and she is always helping them to learn and grow with her. Reading books with silly titles or talking to other mom’s or watching videos- anyway she can grow, she tries too. It’s apparent in her children too, who constantly show their ability to grow and learn. Eli, by the age of 3 could name and the planets and some of their moons. I don’t even know the moons to different planets. Heck, I barely know the planets without ‘My Very Eager Mother Just Served Us Nine Pizzas’. Sampson at the age of one is ready to run around and I can tell he wants to have a full on conversation when I FaceTime. I don’t know what he is trying to tell me yet, but it definitely involves something about a ball.

She then dove into how her and her partner try to work together to parent and help them grow. Erin and her husband Pat grew under two different parenting styles, and so, it makes sense that as the try to raise kids together, there are disagreements and compromises that are made.

“What kind of parenting style does Pat have?”

“[He] is a little bit more goofy and a little bit more laid back. I’m more.. I don’t know. I’m not uptight I guess… [For example] table manors [are] really important and listening and saying thank you instead of thanks… you should look someone in the eye and say thank you… and Pat sometimes feels that I am hard on him, like ‘as long as he’s eating, that’s what’s important’. And we try to find that balance. It’s so hard sometimes. Freakin’ kids should come with manuals. It would be a lot easier.”

There isn’t a manual, yet I believe some people believe they could write one. One thing that I always found fascinating with people is when they feel they know better than someone else about that person’s life. So, I was dying to know if Erin experiences the “mom politics” as I like to call it. People policing other people’s ways to parents.

“Tell me about mom politics.”

“Oh like the judge-y moms and stuff? I’ve noticed not too many mom’s say sh*t to me. I mean like no ones like ‘oh god… you’re not using cloth diapers’… I don’t know. I know there are mom’s out there that are like super judge-y. The biggest thing I have noticed is the pro-vaxxers vs anti-vaxxers situation. I just don’t even talk about vaccinations anymore. Thankfully though, I don’t notice it too much and I’ve even noticed from myself that I would get upset with my friends about certain things, but I realized most of it was coming from a place of jealousy and wanting to have the same things as them. So, once I saw where it was coming from, I was able to check it. To me though and my friends, it’s just whatever works. Every family is different. None of us really judge each other [about things] because we’re just trying to survive.”

She took a deep breathe in and I could hear there was another side of her journey to becoming a parent that she wanted to share. Often parenthood is discussed in terms of after the birth, but parenting for those trying to get pregnant starts with that positive test. Often, the pregnancy is the part that the person who is carrying goes through individually and then once they pass that part they are able to commiserate and be open and honest about their experience. However, we are beginning to see a cultural change in this narrative. More pregnant people are sharing their stories about their choices, loss, pains, heartbreak, joy, etc. There are more and more people connecting their stories to others that need to hear them and no longer allowing their story to be swept under the rug.

“It still hurts thinking about it and I think I just posted about it on Facebook about my rainbow baby Sampson, but we are so lucky that we got to have another child. That we have two kids.”

A rainbow baby for those that aren’t aware is a child that is born shortly after going through a miscarriage. As Erin talked about her experience you could hear her holding back the tears and you could also feel the strength she has gained through her experience. I remember talking to her that day, the day they couldn’t find the heartbeat. She could barely speak to me through the phone as her tears overtook the conversation. I felt her heartbreak that day and can still feel it as she talks bout it with a stronger voice.

“I know some people that they just can’t and I have a friend that she considers herself a lucky one because she has one and she’s been trying for longer than Pat and I have. It has gotten better as far as like the amount of people that talk about it. If you think back to like when mom and [our aunts] were getting pregnant and stuff people didn’t really talk about it that much. And just suffering like that alone is just so hard. That’s why it sucked that this last time it was [about] four months along where they say it’s safe to tell people and we lost it so I had to publicly announce on facebook that we lost our child, but in a way I’m glad that I had to post it because I had so many people reach out to me telling me [their experiences]. Just so heartbreaking and people that I thought I was close with reached out to me to be like ‘yeah, we just lost one’ or ‘just before we had this child we lost one’. It’s just amazing and I [tell people now], tell your family. If anything happens people are going to know why you are upset and are talking about it. Get the support you need because you don’t have to suffer alone.”

She then went on to talk about the pregnancy that followed her miscarriage. The fear that they faced every doctors appointment, as she held her breath when they looked for Sampson’s heartbeat and how that fear never truly leaves, just hoping every second, of every day that her kids are safe and healthy and happy. Then as we wrapped up the conversation she went back to reflecting on her own childhood. Apologizing for being “an a**hole” (her words, not mine) and daydreaming about what her own kids will be like as teenagers. I think the best part of this interview was just getting to see the love that radiated from her as she got to spend a full hour talking about her life as a mom and her love for her children. Every sentence, even when she was talking about ways that motherhood has been difficult, was coming from a place of love and hope that she is going about it the right way.

When we started this interview she said that she is impressed with me and my blog and jokingly stated “I hope I’m like you when I grow up.” As I am not a mom yet and got to hear her experience- being open and honest about #momlife I think I feel the same way. Erin, I hope I’m a mom like you when I grow up- Full of love, hope, kindness, and raw honesty.

A[wo]men & Erin Riley

I sincerely thank Erin for sharing her story and being so brave and honest with me about what it is like to be a mom. If you or someone you know has a story they would like to share please fill out the form on my contact page. And if you are experiencing difficulties with pregnancy and/or parenting, know that you are not alone and that people want to connect with and support you.

i struggle so deeply

to understand

how someone can

pour their entire soul

blood and energy

into someone

without wanting

anything in

return

i will have to wait till i’m a mother– Rupi Kaur

The Stranger Friend

Have you ever been in a really crowded place and all you could think was ‘so long as no one talks to me, I’ll be okay.’ I do this often. In New York, basically everywhere is crowded and escaping people is only done in the solace of your bedroom, and some aren’t even that lucky. I often use the tactics of loud headphones, avoiding eye contact, and looking as though I am feeling any emotion but happy. I would say this works fifty percent of the time. Some people really don’t care. Typically, I am polite and make conversation, but the whole time in my head I am screaming “LEAVE ME THE EFF ALONE, damn…” 

Currently, I am writing this from one of the most crowded places one can find in any city: The DMV. *DUN DUN DUN* If you have seen the movie depiction of a DMV- then you know exactly what surrounds me. The wait time is an estimated 4 hours, everyone is grumpy, and it smells of something I can’t quite place. I’m pretty sure this kid next to me did something in his diaper, but who I am to say for sure. It’s an anxious ball of energy just wanting to be, literally, anywhere else. 

I spent two hours here yesterday with no luck of getting what I came for. I had to get to therapy by 4pm, so I had to leave before my number was called. I left angry and on the verge of yelling at a stranger- not in typical Sarah fashion. I was mostly angry because I knew I would have to do it all over again. I would have to wait in the long lines and sit with the smell and “waste” two-three more hours of my life. I was definitely in the ‘nobody talk to me or I’ll scream’ mood. 

I thought about those two hours on my thirty minute train ride to therapy. I thought about how that sucked and how none of it was urgent and I will try again tomorrow. I calmed my nerves by breathing and just felt glad that the moment was over and I was on my way to talk about my feelings. Bonus because if I had any leftover feelings from the moment, I knew someone who could help. (She did help, as always. #ilovetherapy)

So, for my return to the DMV this morning I set a different intention. Instead of wasting time, I wanted to utilize the time that lay ahead of me. I was prepared in my head to be there for 5 hours (better to think it will be much longer than to think it will be much shorter). I then thought about what I would like to get done in 5 hours and what was possible. Hello Sarah, you have a blog to write. Five hours of uninterrupted writing will help the time breeze by.

Right off the bat the line was long and I waited 40 mins just to get a number to be seen. I couldn’t exactly write while I was standing in line, so that 40 mins had a lot of scroll time. Instagram kept telling me I was all caught up… so rude. Then, there was a chatty person in front of me. “Can I ask you a question? Do you have a number? Should I already have one? You were here yesterday? How long was the wait? Do you have a pen?” On and on and on. At first I was back to the “LEAVE ME THE EFF ALONE, damn…” mentality. I smiled politely and answered their questions between scrolls. Then I started thinking about the five hours ahead of me and I wondered why I didn’t want to talk to someone who was just as bored as I was. I then put my phone down and tried to keep the conversation going.

They asked me where was I from, what I do, the usuals from strangers. The not-so-usual from strangers occurs when you tell them you’re a social worker and used to be a child and family therapist. For those of you not in this line of work, it is extremely common for people to hear this and think that they can just get a free therapy session. Often I am stand-offish when this happens and imaginarily cover my ears and say “I can’t hear you, I can’t hear you! Nanananana.” *sticks tongue out* In this moment though, I thought, well sh*t, I’ve got time. Hit me. They proceed to tell me about their son who is 5. He just started kindergarten which was so exciting for the family. His class did a scavenger hunt the first day and it was really nice for the family and their son to orient to a new surrounding. However, the last week or so things have been hard. He has trouble sleeping which in turn causes him to be tired in the morning. They said “it is just a battle. Sometimes I can’t handle it. And then you’ve got these moms who brag about their kid going to bed at 7:30pm and I just wonder why he won’t do the same.”  I was amazed at this person just telling me their struggles, so openly and honestly. At one point they whisper “sometimes I just want to give him ambien… I mean I never would, but gosh it is tempting some days”. I pictured this kid, with assistance from the many pictures they showed me, just laying in bed fighting sleep wondering why his parents get to stay up so late, but he can’t.

“So, do you have any tips? Should I, like, take him to a therapist?” Again, said at a whisper.

I took a deep breathe, wondering how to breach the topic of “yo, I don’t know your kids life” in a graceful way. 

But then they just kept talking. 

They talked about their own troubles with sleep and how their anxiety keeps them up with their racing thoughts. How sometimes they need to listen to sleep stories, and take ambien, and need a warm bath before they can go to bed. “Maybe it just runs in the family,” they sighed.

As they are talking, I am so fascinated by their story. I find myself wanting to know more. Not because I am feeling like their therapist at this point, but because it is two people in this place that feels so rushed and hectic, slowing down. The loud speaker is intrusive in the conversation, continually calling out numbers. “B545 AT COUNTER 14.” And then here we are, two total strangers, connecting and passing the time together. I told them about my own life. How I just moved back after living in Alaska and giving them tips if they ever go there. My reasons for getting into social work and how ‘I don’t have a family yet, but I hope to one day.’

“Would you look at that, we’re almost to the front of the line. Thank you for chatting with me, Sarah, it was a really nice way to pass the time. I really appreciate you listening, I know you do it all day for work, but it was nice to just have someone to talk to. And good luck with everything.”

As we wrapped up our conversation I thought about how nice of a time I had in that line all because I decided to challenge my thoughts of ‘avoid, avoid, avoid’ to ‘lets just see where this conversation goes’. I think back to all the times I avoided people and what they had to say and the many connections I overlook on a daily basis. This is not to say that I am going to start talking to every stranger I meet, heck I may not even change my ways at all; it did remind of how simple it can be to just do one thing differently and how that will impact you in any moment.

I have now since left the DMV and am writing in the comfort of my own home and as I was leaving I thought about how I felt yesterday compared to today. Today I was smiling when I left. I utilized my time there, got what I needed, and was even able to gather a whole post just from a single morning. If I hadn’t talked to them, if I just put my headphones in, I don’t think things would be extremely different. I would’ve written about some other thing I’ve experienced, I would’ve gotten my license, had the same lunch, still gone for a run, taken a shower, picked out the same clothes. It just would’ve been one less connection I made in the world.

Then again, I don’t really know, we never do. Perhaps, if I didn’t talk to them I would have become angry again and then decided to leave and just deal with it a different day, then not to run and so on. We just never know how one thing impacts another. I think that is something I am trying to recognize more of. Perhaps tonight when my stranger friend goes home they think about how I told them I’ve met a lot of kids that have trouble sleeping and how they aren’t alone and this thought makes them feel less anxious for just a moment. See the impacts are invisible most times, but I think they are there and I think they all stem from each connection we make. And again, maybe they don’t do this at all, but isn’t it cool that it’s a possibility? That maybe just maybe I impacted their life, as much as they influenced mine. A whole blog post of material, ya know?

I guess I would like to urge you to maybe take your headphones out one day in a crowded place. Maybe start a conversation or don’t write off the stranger trying to start one with you. I think we are all just a little lonely some days and a stranger is just as good as anyone to listen. Heck, you might even make a stranger friend out of it.

A[wo]men

“Can i ask you a question?”

No-

You can ask me a million questions,

fill my head with a million conversations.

Become a stranger friend.

-How to make connections