Share your noodles.

We need a word for when you fall apart (as close to falling apart as a fed, housed, not-a-parent, 24-yr old can get anyway), just when you think you’ve figured it out— some kind of answer to life, your own personal philosophy.

I’ll share something personal now. (Ew)

I saw a video of Maya Angelou  recently where she talked of our ancestors and how we should carry them with us wherever we go, so I, of course, took out the photo albums and dusted them.

There’s stories of  love, and sacrifice, and strength that resurfaced after seeing the lives of people I had never met on those pages. Of surviving wars, famine, abuse, providing in spite of disability, and still showing up and  loving abundantly. Man, that shit made me emotional. I understood what Dr. Angelou meant, the power in showing up as all those people, and their strength. The mountain shrinks.

Anyway, it’s been a weird day, and I am exhausted. ✌🏾

(Can I say, I finally get the appeal of every Ugandan household keeping them photo albums as coffee table entertainment.)

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMj1Ek3eT/