What’s my love language?
Words. Oh, how I love thee. The way I feel about words is how Marge Simpson feels about potatoes: “I just think they’re neat.” But unlike some people who’ll go unnamed, I don’t claim to know “the best words.” So, I try my best to find and string them together into these cool things called sentences. And when I do? Ah. My heart goes pitter patter. Then I make other people read them, scrunch my nose, and hope they feel a little something like love too.
I used to live in Washington, DC. I really liked it there—and not because of its sensational mugs (shown above). But because it felt like I was doing something. Part of something bigger. Something official. To be sure, I was a tadpole in a big pond, but I was part of the ecosystem just the same. Still, over time, tadpoles change. I left to be somewhere I’ve never been. I’m a frog now, hopping around the pond with a few little fishies. And the water feels fine.
Oh, I’m sorry. This probably wasn’t the sort of “about me” you had in mind. How about this: When I was a teenager, my dad gave me some sage advice. He said, “Life is short. Pants are long.” And you know what? He wasn’t wrong. So in the spirit of life hurling forward without remorse, let’s share our best words and see if we can rouse a little inspiration, spark joy, or make good sh*t happen.