I love you, I hate you, I love you, I hate you

So. If you’re with me just on this blog (as opposed to Twitter, Facebook, real life, etc. etc. etc.) then here’s a not very hidden fact about me: I. Love. Books. Books can make the imagination soar, can make the world grow, can ensure you’re never alone. Going to meetings every day (or near every day) has added another layer of un-alone; has added another layer of safety in a mind that often feels isolated beyond belief. I bring that up because I recently started rereading Tablet & Pen: Literary Landscapes from the Modern Middle East (Words Without Borders) ed by Reza Aslan. Included was this,

“Whoever keeps you and me
from being we,
let his house cave in.
If I don’t become we, I’m alone.
If you don’t become we, you are just you.”
– from “Blue, Grey, Black” by Hamid Mos-Adiq (1969)
Trans from Persian by Sholeh Wolpe and Tony Barnstone

This is one of the hardest parts of this whole process. Knowing that I’m no longer just me, because there are a whole boatload of folks who are going to stand with me and make me we. For all the times I’m thankful for that, I’m equally pissed (then thankful then pissed then then then).

Today though? Today I’m grateful (I think). Today I know that my I is an us, is a we. Today, I’m going to let that be enough. I’m going to hit publish on this post. I’m going to grab another coffee. I’m going to go home and queue up some Netflix. Heck. I may even order a pizza.

Today is going to be today. It’s not going to be yesterday. It’s not going to be tomorrow. It’s going to be today. Today I won’t be me, it’ll be we.

Today that’ll be okay. Today that’s enough.