[grabs your shirt] listen. listen to me. the practical is holy. the everyday is sacred. the simple act of surviving is divine. do you get it? sanctity begins at home, in the hands that build and the lives we live and the deaths we die and the worms that eat our bodies. if making something by hand is not worthy of veneration then nothing is.
i’m so thankful we’re alive to smell flowers and touch saltwater and get chilled in the breeze and take deep breaths and make foods warm with love and dance and laugh and move and wake up and dig our hands in dirt and eat strawberries and draw mindlessly and remember and sing and joke and walk down the same street again and again and make meaning. we are so lucky we get to be and feel and keep going