it depends
I’ve been reading my journals from 2025. There are many times where I thank my “blankets made of oil” in those pages.
part of an intentional gratitude practice, early morning, I reach for the closest things to me - a flickering candle, sun yet uncovered. I thank oil for her shapeshifting. Blankets that have kept me warm for many moons now.
I’m wondering about transmuting energy. Can love alter a thing’s composition. Have I loved my oil blankets into a higher frequency. Are the cotton sheets sold by the podcast sponsor better than the big box polyester ones? What if the polyester ones were sewn by a young woman swept up in a budding crush, her ecstasy and desire penetrating the fabric, over and over.
What if the cotton was grown by a farmer contemplating suicide, desperate to get a boot off of his neck.
Don’t these considerations matter?
a rippling
beyond our wildest dreams.
I asked a friend if she thought it was possible, if intention or circumstance could alter the energy of a thing. It depends, she replied. Initially I felt frustration. But the longer it simmered, the more it felt true.
of course
it depends.
if everything is an unfolding then the combination changes each time we take a step.
I hear you can never set foot in the same river twice.
—
And once again, I am reminded that purity is a fool’s errand.
I am only comfortable in the pulp of my contradiction.
My unbearable atrocities.
My neuroses.
And then
my forgiveness.