Ode to the coyote that pooped in my neighbor’s yard

You know the drill. You get an emergency alert on your friendly neighborhood app. You check it to find the emergency is actually a neighbor who is upset about a stolen package or, in this case, a coyote desecrating their property. The message that follows is often of indignation, and I often wonder who they are actually talking to. 

I mean, I’m blogging. Who am I actually talking to?

Like, number one or number two?

Don’t get me wrong; I’d be furious if a porch pirate took off with my package, regardless of the value. Waiting for my deliveries is like same-day or next-day Christmas. I think anyone who’s had property stolen, rifled through, or vandalized can relate. It’s a violation. It makes you feel unsafe and insecure. It makes you angry.

In anger, folks will turn to shaming and scold these thieves on social platforms, but are those very thieves reading the neighborhood apps? No. If they were, would they feel remorse? Also probably no.

What I find most interesting, though, is how we can point out the injustice done to us without self-reflecting on the injustices done to others throughout history. How we can suddenly say “this isn’t fair!” while still questioning the validity of another person’s lived experience. The worst part? Hoping someone will listen. 

Well, we’re all listening now. Many of us are asking how we got here. Only some of us recognize we’ve always been here. And, sadly, very few of us are wondering why it’s been so hard to understand injustice until now, when their precious packages are threatened. 

It’s also sad that a self-described victory isn’t enough unless it’s a zero-sum game. Scorched earth. Plow the salt deep. The problem with revenge is that no one wins. The victors don’t realize it until it’s too late for them, too. 

So, in this moment of everything being carelessly torn down in anger and vengeance, my hope is that the right folks will emerge to build it back up again. Let’s not let this point in history be a total loss. Because this is precious.

Oh and in my red, white, and seasonal blues, I made another scarf. 

But not actually red, white, and blue.

Word of the day: curiosity.

I shared in my previous post that I bought luscious yarn to make a new, as-of-yet-undecided project. I did start it with my usual ribbed pattern and just didn’t care for it. I pulled it apart. Disappointed, I sat for a moment to regroup. I picked up my phone for a distraction.

My friend had texted me. We chatted a bit, and she shared that her stepmother was just diagnosed with breast cancer. She was going to put together a care package including gloves, socks, and hats, so I asked if I could make her a scarf. Goodness knows I’ve made a few lately, and they just sit in my house until they are up on rotation, that moment for them to go out into the world and do their job. 

Be the best scarf they could be.

I had two leftover hanks of yarn and got to work. And I’m going to say what you already know – it feels good to gift a project. It feels purposeful. Useful. It’s giving away a little piece of you (in a good way).

Out into the world with you!

This morning, I put on one of my scarves and headed to breakfast with a dear friend. Over biscuits and hash browns, we talked about family and legacy. We talked about what we inherited from our parents and what they inherited from their parents. On and on it goes, this legacy of culture, tradition, belief, conflict, and hope. There’s a difference between what we own and what we are gifted. What we’ve experienced ourselves, and what those who came before us feel we need to have. 

Little pieces of our ancestors.

I’m not here to argue what is good and what is bad. I can’t say what we should feel responsible for and what we shouldn’t. That’s for each of us to decide. What I can say with conviction is that we bring these gifts with us to each interaction, each decision we make, and that for a moment we might consider what the other person is bringing, too. Together, we make up the whole.

We need to ask questions. I’m a firm believer that curiosity is the foundation of wisdom, intelligence, innovation, and empathy. It’s how we build community. It’s how we trust.

Right now, I wish more of us were curious.

I would sometimes ask my mother about her mother, to know more about where I came from. You see, my mother lost her battle to breast cancer over 20 years ago. Before she passed, she told me a story about her own mother dying when she was very young. “I remember her long, black hair laid out next to her in the casket,” she said. With cancer, my mother didn’t have long, black hair, or any hair for that matter, but she had stories and memories and a life lived. 

So, all that to say, go make a thing with your own two hands. Put a piece of your heart into it, and then give it away. It doesn’t need to be perfect, it just needs to be from you. At the end of the day, it’s the connections we make that matter the most. 

Go be the best you that you can be.