‘And’ is the Operative Word

Devastated and excited. The journey of a lifetime begins and ends. The business is booming and I’m exhausted. There is no place like home and I love where I am.

I miss her and I know it had to end.

I am sorry, I feel pain, I hurt, I am raw and it’s all perfect.

‘And’ is an exquisite word—sharp and tender—exquisite, because life demands inclusion, and the word ‘but’ does not allow for you to be both this and that.

‘And’ holds the tension, creates space for opposites to dance, blend—become something new. ‘But’ tears them apart.

I am a father and I am a son.

I am thankful for my job and it’s tiring me out.

I am scared and I am excited.

I long for and I accept.

‘And’—reclaim ‘and!’ Infuse life with ‘and.’

Everyone dies, I am overcome by grief and I know it will be alright. The world is full of pain, crime, torture, war, murder and there is absolute beauty, kindness, hope, love.

‘And’ is an open doorway between both sides — a paradoxical union—it does not deny. Life is good and really fucking tough. I have hope and I can’t shake the doubt. I know it will be alright and I don’t know how. ‘And’ does not reject the good nor the bad.

I am this and I am that and I am nothing at all.