I talk a lot about the gift of grace so many of you have lent me-- the hope, the prayers, the kindnesses, the inspiration, the snacks, etc-- but I wanted to write a little something today about the gift of money because it is Giving Tuesday and I wanted to remind people how much those things can matter to a small business or an individual person.
Because of y'all, I walked out of the gates of prison into a warm home that I rented with my own money, not beholden to anyone, and not obligated to work immediately. That's such a mental gift after something like incarceration, where your autonomy is worn away. Every time I sell a book, or a dino necklace, or a t-shirt-- every time you donate to my Ko-fi or Paypal -- that clink of support going into the piggy bank is a huge boost. Especially knowing that it is a gift based on the work that I already create for this community, for free, for love. A few dollars doesn't make a life of difference, but it reminds me that you are putting your money on the possibility that I'll stop falling so often and maybe start to thrive. It makes it really hard to believe that I am a tangle of failures, because why then would you bet on me?
This post is not a bid for donations-- just a reminder that there are others like me out in your world. People who could survive a little longer, a little better, a little brighter, knowing that you found even a dollars worth of worth in their work.
When giving this year-- if you are in the position to give, of course-- think about the bloggers you read, the poets you snap to, the musicians you gather outside to hear. Think about your friend who always shows up to things, and the one who is trying to make her business work, and the one who is clawing onto life just to keep from slipping away. Think about sending them a dollar or two, or a hundred, or whatever is comfortable. Buy their stuff, for you, and for a friend, too. Remind them it is because they are so important, and so perfect, just the way they are.
And for those who have done this for me, in often astronomical ways, look at me here: still alive, somehow. What a miracle-maker you are. Thank you.
Today I am thinking about the traditions we begin, and how they survive us. We talk of legacies as if they are only giant things, but it is often the small inheritances that make it over the borders, that survive the winters, that translate themselves into the next generation. Mighty roots, but tiny, gentle leaves that float right by us, every day.
#GoodnightUncleRudy #ThanksForTheMusic
