I like packing. It’s a chance to take stock of the things I own. To assess philosophically: does my stuff accurately represent the life I want to be living? To assess ruthlessly: bye bye. To assess wistfully: why yes, it is indeed vital to my happiness to preserve every note friends & family have written me, even if it’s a post-it.
The perks of moving now seven times in twelve years means there isn't much chance for clutter to accumulate. However, the one thing I hoarded this time around is dirt. Literal dirt. Over the weekend, I chucked nearly 60kg of old soil, lugging giant blue IKEA bags down the lift, to the rubbish area. I had the best of intentions—dreams of grandeur to revitalize the ded soil with nutrients, to grant it a second chance, the proverbial circle of life. But alas, from dust to dust. I then shifted my focus to hacking down one of my tree-like shrubs:
Plants are resilient. They can handle a move. Yet, it is still a shock to the system, similar to propagation. So, as I’ve been wanting to zhuzh up this plant without losing the presence it brought to the corridor window, it was the perfect time for a chop.
Enjoy the 30-minute process in 47 seconds:
a song on repeat
You guys already know I’ve been a bit obsessed with Psalm 84 this year. Writers Well recently dropped a 7-minute jazzy-piano arrangement of Yahweh. I didn’t think the song could be more perfect. Not sure who the pianist is, but what a MOOD 🤩
an album
Andra Day’s CASSANDRA (cherith). The essential rainy Saturday morning vibe. I particularly like her lush vocals in Chasing and Maybe Next Time, the piano progressions in In the Meantime, and her mom reading Psalm 62. Worth the listen from beginning to end.
a podcast
A recent episode from With the Perrys on Managing Friendship Trauma. A mic drop from JHP:
One of the things that therapy did for me: therapy didn’t necessarily heal me, but it made me aware. And so I’m able to identify what we call a trigger—a situation or emotion that makes me feel a kind of way, and trace it to its source. And work with that so I don’t deal with people according to a past pain.
[Yet] when you only entrust yourself to therapy and not also to worship and sanctification, you know a lot about you, but you don’t know a lot about God to even know how maybe what you are and how you are is antithetical to who He is. We have a lot of people who go do the work, who get therapy, but they’re still the same. They are still centering themselves in everything because they are more self-aware. But how does my self-awareness lead me to repentance? Lead me toward healing? And therefore lead me towards worship? Therapy has shown me, you know what, you need the Lord!
Thank you for reading, friends! Today got me hankering for every Monday to be a public holiday so we can drink milo and wave to passersby while awaiting our prata.
love,
reb