I Have Become Boring

Worse, I don’t mind it. Last night, I sat around listening to podcasts and working on this blanket. Tonight I will listen to podcasts and finish it up.

I don’t even feel bad about it. I think it’s curious to see how boring I can be and still be content, but I don’t feel like it signals anything’s wrong with me.

This morning, the dog and I walked through the most beautiful fog. It was very thick and dark gray, but it left a large area of visibility in any direction. So, like, clear for fifty feet around us but then almost impenetrable beyond that. So, it had the effect of being the only real things in a bubble of unreal nothingness.

Perhaps there’s a metaphor in there for how things are now.

I have moved from not being able to imagine the grace it would take to say “I am with you in Rockland,” to understanding that I am in Rockland and not sure what can be done in here.

Do you have to know and accept your circumstances in order to provide comfort to others, or is just being there, with someone, enough?

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2 thoughts on “I Have Become Boring

  1. It amuses me how my pagan, polyamorous (he has three girlfriends) kinky, queer boyfriend and I spend our weekends, versus how everyone else thinks we must spend our weekends.

    This weekend we’re going to stain and poly boards for shelves, and hang them up, and I’m going to do a lot of laundry, and on Sunday I’m going to make waffles for breakfast, and we’re going to spend our evenings sitting on the couch on our laptops playing two different video games beside each other.

    I know, wild, right? lol

    Boring is a good part of life. It’s when you get to rest up for the exciting bits.

  2. But I have to say, I love the thought of you telling someone “oh, we’re just going to stain boards this weekend” and having them just assume it’s some multiparty sex act they’ve never heard of before.

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