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like an ocean icy

December 2, 2013

I stopped watching the Wonder Years. I started it about two years ago and it transitioned with me from sad in San Francisco to sad in Portland, and eventually I realized that the dude keeps having basically the same epiphany over and over again and is also really annoying in a has a nice smile and sweater vest sort of way, so. I just never finished it.

One of the things I took away from it though is that humans are repetitious epiphany havers. I am pretty sure that everyone who reads my blog or listens to me talk after a few tokes down the this is all so incendiary tunnel (hi Nitya!) has been strenuously aware for lo these many years that I have the same epiphany over and over again with different types of packaging on it.

Mostly it boils down to,

I am ok. It’s ok to be ok, and it’s ok to be this sort of ok. The sort of ok that I am is what makes me ok in the first place. Lots of other types of ok would bore me or bug me or suck the guts out of my little soul. It’s ok that my idea of a fun recreational activity does not include buying expensive ropes with carabiners at the ends and scrambling up a rock. I remember vividly that every time I have been in rocky situations I am a good scrambler. It’s ok. It’s ok that I’m still not doing all of those performance based things that I haven’t been doing all these years because I don’t fucking want to. It’s ok. I am not a car.

It’s ok to have the same epiphany over and over. This overarching epiphany of mine is always about liking myself and liking other people and wanting the best for us, but being cool with us going about that in our own myriad ways.

No this is not an entire blog post about my rock climbing guilt.

I am

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