Today, I’ve got it all — a good job with a walkable commute from a home three miles from the beach where I live with my beautiful wife. I’ve got some money in the bank, and some AirPods.
Tomorrow? Who fucking knows. I can tell you about plans. I’ve got them. And I can tell you about showing up. I do that. I could probably speak more eloquently from more experience on confusion and half-assing though. More to the point, I’m walking to work and one of the crosswalks I use is basically invisible to cars making a right until they’re around the corner.
Listening to “Oh! Sweet Nuthin,” I know I’m a far cry from Lou Reed’s Jimmy and Ginger Brown in terms of shirts and shoes. I have them. When I feel my teeth make contact with each other, I know I’ve been grinding them because I don’t want to lose those things.
But as I saunter with the blues of Lou Reed’s vocals and guitar, and start bobbing my head through the guitar solo and drum roll, I know I’m not a far cry from having nothing at all. As the solo breaks, that understanding turns into a feeling. I’m in stride with the helix motion of matter, driving the feet beneath me and the universe at the same time, as we always are, despite nothing at all.
If the next day I’m in that crosswalk on my way to work, and some other sweet nuthin in their car barrels through it, I might have a brief understanding of what it’s like to have my insides rearranged, and then all the same, nothing at all.
(Song recommendation by Andrew Len)