insignificant

"whatever you do in the world, it will be insignificant. but do it anyway because no one else will."

gandhi shared these words that continue to resonate with me. there's something freeing about acknowledging that our individual actions might appear small in the grand tapestry of existence yet still matter deeply because they're uniquely ours to do.

yesterday i spent most of the day at the hospital, i hate hospitals.

the smell. the waste.

the sentimental attachment to our lives meaning more than the planet’s.

society loves the resilient.

the ability to withstand persevere. but there is wisdom in softness, in allowing ourselves to feel the full spectrum of what it means to be human. not a softness that diminishes our capacity to navigate challenges, but a gentleness toward our hearts and the hearts of others.

recently, i spent six months with a business coach. six months and an amount of money that made my stomach clench each time i wrote the check. money we absolutely could not afford. thousands of dollars that could have covered bills, repairs, necessities. all this investment—this financial stretch beyond reasonable limits—and what did i get? a practice of writing the word "the" 5,000 times on a sheet of paper.

that's what all that money bought me. not a business plan, not a marketing strategy, not instant success. just the instruction to write the most common, utilitarian word in the english language over and over again.

the word "the" doesn't inspire. it doesn't evoke emotion. it simply exists to serve a grammatical function. when i write, i typically search for alternatives, preferring words with substance and character.

yet this expensive lesson—writing "the" thousands of times—has become strangely valuable. i return to this practice when perspective is needed, when i'm either dismissing my efforts as meaningless or inflating their importance beyond reason. something about the repetition centers me in a way.

a friend and i recently discussed feeling stuck. underneath that stuckness more often than not lives grief, processing grief, and finding our place in a world where many yearn to create meaningful difference. the beauty lies in continuing anyway, in tending the gardens we can reach.

this weekend is bringing a journey to my hometown. the landscape there holds such natural beauty - springs, forests, open skies. i'll sleep in my car near water, finding alignment in simplicity. there's something centering about returning to essentials.

while there, i'll share an idea with a company - something with potential to create meaningful change for our planet and the people who inhabit it. this concept has been growing in my mind, taking shape slowly but with increasing clarity. it feels like work that matters, regardless of what the company decides. the act of bringing it forward honors the vision itself.

alongside this, i'm gathering poems for a chapbook submission, revisiting earlier writings with fresh eyes.

this creative process invites so much vulnerability. often i tire of my own voice yet continue shaping words because it matters to me. the act of creating holds value regardless of outcome.

today also brings a conversation about potential paid work. work i am good at, but not really interested in doing it often unfolds this way - just as creative energy flows most freely, practical matters appear, asking for attention. both carry their own form of significance.

i believe in finding freedom to process aloud, to speak experiences into being. writing "the" thousands of times reminds me that even the smallest, most utilitarian word has its rightful place in language.

just like me. just like you. just like all our seemingly small actions that create ripples we may never fully see.