airplane mode
being unavailable - to be available
Airplane Mode I turn my phone on airplane mode now every morning after I drop off the kids. I pretend I’m going on a trip. into the territory of my own life, I’m unavailable, for everything else except what is mine, what is here, what is now. This atmosphere; filled with the cat’s yeowls, the dog’s shit on the porch because she won’t go outside in the snow, the dishes from last night, laundry (albeit clean) — calling to at least be hung up for Christ’s sake, and a recipe for lentils which I definitely should not make, because no one else wants to eat it. But I go downstairs. I lift heavy weights, so I can lift my children. I read poems by Kate Baer, I listen to music. Just for a little while. I’m not crazy. I mean what if there was a shooter at the kids school?, Or my sister needed me? Or ICE picked up my partner because he had to go to Home Depot to grab something for work and his skin was too brown and he only had one phone call? I’ll turn it back on at noon, to be safe, and learn — How to Simplify Your Life / What To Do With Your Thanksgiving Left Overs / Last Call for Cyber Monday (on Tuesday) / Clock’s Ticking / Feedback is a Gift… If I turned it on right now though, the whole thing might go up in flames. That’s what they say — something about signals getting jammed, (we all know it’s a lie) (But who can blame them) They want to pretend, just a steel bubble in the sky, a packet of peanuts and a window seat. Have you ever pressed your forehead against the cold glass and thought, it just makes no sense that you can’t touch clouds?
Don’t feel like subscribing, but still want to support my work! Contribute below to my caffeine intake. As always, all forms of support are appreciated!
Thanks for reading Finding What’s True! This post is public, so feel free to share it.



Love how you came back to the plane, at the end. One day when my girls were young and I was home alone, I cried with longing for wanting to be an artist, but didn't know how. I only knew what not being an artist was. So I made a deal with myself (privileged yes) that in the hours when the girls were at school I would NOT: shop, clean, talk on the phone (pre-internet) go out to lunch with friends (that's a bit harsh)... and would let myself be curious and bored, waiting to see what I might want to do...that was not those other things. After a month, I knew what I wanted to do... after two months, I was an artist.
Goodness, dont know how you keep the phone on plane mode when all those things you listed in paragraph 5 (or 6 if you count Just for a llitle while as a para), but I'm glad you do. Just for a little while.