Haibun: Things Fall Apart
Sometimes things just fall apart. On their own or with my help, they can become worse and I can feel helpless as I watch.
I remember in college, I had a friend who confidently could get any girl’s number. He’d go up to whoever he was going to ask, there would be giggling, and he’d have their number. I was taken aback at how someone could do that, but then again, the moral universe of the rules that orbited my head had no space for such boldness. Yet I saw first hand that when no one was around, he could have crippling self-doubt that left him a mess and everything around him would fall apart. His confidence was an actor taking the stage to perform.
I’d venture to say we are a mess at times because we have things we just can’t control. As technology advances, so do our hopes in order and technique and the thinner margins we have for imperfections. We are asked to perform more and better and to have less error, or at least we ask that of each other’s Instagram and LinkedIn profiles. But we are made to have messes, to know love in forgiveness and grace and the mercy of being found out.
cacti in wedges, up high
now winter’s dredges
