1. amulets.
For years I wore a bracelet around my wrist given to me on my 16th birthday by a boy who turned out to be a mistake, among other things. It was a Doc Marten shoelace that he tied around my wrist on the day we met. I wore it everywhere I went for entirely too long, after he repeatedly hurt me and was reckless and floated in and out of my life. The sap in me wore it because it reminded me of someone and at that point in time, I needed to be reminded that there was someone there, even if I hated him and his self-destructive streak that seeped into my life. Even if it was a weird platonic cacophony of random run-ins that always ended in me getting hurt in some manner or other. It was a false talisman that I embraced because of the angst we all seemingly go through in our late teens.

Eventually I got rid of it and even now, almost a decade later, I look down expecting the bracelet to be there and sometimes take a second to really feel the breeze hit the skin on my wrist that I so long kept from view. While it still took years for me to become whole again, there’s something about my right wrist feeling the air that at times stops me cold. Instead of the rush of air chiding me, it never fails to imbue me with strength of where I’ve been and where I’m going.

So it is all the more powerful now when someone chooses to give something that they have handcrafted out of care or love or kindness or joy or respect. Instead of holding me down, these new delicate amulets radiate strength and happiness and courage along my path. Quietly, they continue to shine a light on my life, empowering me to continue on. Such is the power of handmade items. They contain a buoyancy that nothing storebought can ever touch.

Today I sat in a clinic waiting room with my mother, and we talked about the lucky items she had on as she waited for the doctor to call her back for another test. She had a sparkle in her eye, separate from the look of fear that has been in her eyes for days now, as she spoke of the amulets she carried with her into the doctor’s office, unsure of what the future will hold.

And it reminded me undoubtedly of all the talismans I’ve carried in my life, and how it has always been the handmade ones that have given me strength and courage. And how unlike store-procured pieces of faith, the items that have been passed along to me by their makers have never led me astray. True, maybe it has something to do with my own making, but I trust in the notion that things that are forged by a person instead of a machine will always hold a bit of the maker inside them. And by continuing to pass along handcrafted items, we not only ensure our own perpetuity, but we also remind those in our lives how they have touched our souls.

2. blurry.
Due to another move, I’ve been gleaning again. Going through all of my old belongings and figuring out what to chuck, what to donate, what to keep and what to mull over for a bit longer. One of the biggest themes in my life is holism. In my refusal to obtain a job where my ideals are conflicted, I have repeatedly skipped from job to job, like a skipping stone trying to figure out where to land. The result of this search being a long continuum of adventures as well as failures and deadends.

As a kid I never quite knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. The only thing I was sure of was that I wanted to be happy. That was the only thing that mattered. Ironically, I spent the majority of my teens and 20s ridiculously unhappy, and made myself even more miserable by being unable to make wise decisions. Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if being rich was the only thing that mattered. Would I still be constantly weighing my options and following my heart?

But instead of money, I deal with ideas and thoughts- which due to their abstract nature sometimes have me longing for concrete, but not too often. Our world has come to the point where ideas are devalued instead of seen as an important part of society. We have become so micro-managed that whenever we have a second to ourselves we feel guilty and wondering if perhaps there was some errand that needed running or email that needed sending.

Due to the fact that I have bills to pay and ideas to peddle, I find myself constantly at war and a bit blurred between the lines. I couldn’t help but find a recent self-portrait apt as for once my hair was perfectly in place, but the picture itself was blurred. I seem to be entrenched in doing this back-and-forth dance between what I loathe and what I love, wondering which one is wiser.

Lately this new footwork has become crystal clear at work as time seems to slip away once I start talking to someone about books or thoughts or essays or genres. When the talk turns to money, I am jolted back into reality- or atleast the notion that such conversations regarding Burroughs or Benjamin or Dostoevsky for more than a minute are frivolous and time-wasting. After a moment of engaging in thoughtful conversation about new ideas with someone whose eyes are lighting up with interest, it’s back to cash and credit.

As I get closer and closer to leaving for England (4 days!), I can’t help but wonder about this schism. I wonder if I will spend my entire life juggling two sides of reality (one spent working a job I hate in order to do the work I love), never quite managing to reach the holism that I so very much long to achieve.