these leaves.

I've seen a lot of things on the news and in my newsfeed that have made me cringe or cry or both in the last week. Humans are messy (good grief, we're the messiest -- we need some Clorox wipes or a bath or something) and so are the things we do or say or post, and the things that we choose not to do or say or post. Sometimes it feels like no one cares about or loves or fights for each other anymore. Sometimes the world is depressing and you're certain that the light at the end of the tunnel is actually, definitely a big-ass train coming straight for all of us. That we're doomed.

So, with this in mind, posting a picture of my feet on the fall leaves, with my big-ass satchel and denim dress didn't seem right. (You've seen hipster Barbie's Instagram account, right? I fear she will use this photo as inspiration for her next post.) It made me feel out of touch with the realities and struggles of the world, too inwardly-turned in the midst of so much turmoil on this Earth. There are much more important things in the world to post about and talk about and raise our voices about than my feet and fall's arrival. I can think of ten off the top of my head right now. I'm sure I could think of another twenty if I really tried.

However. Here it is. My feet, my big-ass satchel, the fall leaves. Instagram Post #617. This post will be one of hundreds that will plaster the social network as the leaves begin to change colors, boots are pulled out of closets, and the Pumpkin Spice Latte makes it's return (which, as a new coffee drinker, I'm stoked to try for the first time). It will show up under #fallfeet and #fallishere and maybe be liked by people from around the world who are scrolling through the hashtags, spending their mental energy finding other people who have taken photos of their feet, their big-ass satchels, and the fall leaves. We live in a messy world, a world where we can mindlessly scroll on Instagram for hours and forget about those ten things that are much more important than the mindless scroll. We live in a messy world, where we can't even open the app for 48 hours because it seems so stupid compared to what's happening outside of the screen. 

So I'm finding middle ground, or trying to, to bridge those two messy realities. This picture is a #feetstagram, yes, but it's also a virtual representation of a pause that we all desperately need. A reminder that it's okay to take a deep breath (and a deep break) from all of the cringe- and cry-worthy things so we can show up to them again. And raise our voices and talk and post about them again. Taking a break (or posting a photo of our feet or our coffee or our face) doesn't mean that we care less or are no longer "good," conscious people or that we're banned from ever being social justice advocates or activists ever again. It means we are human. That we can't always take in everything that the world and the news and our newsfeeds throw at us. That we need to focus our attention on something like Instagram or Buzzfeed quizzes or Gilmore Girls to give ourselves a break.

And yet. It's not fair that some of us get to take a break, when so many humans have literally been running for refuge for days and months and, for some, years; or to take a photo of our feet, when so many of those humans' feet are tired and heavy and sore; or to take a moment to welcome fall outside our homes, when so many humans have not yet found a welcome place to call home. It's not fair, and that's shitty, and that makes me want to cringe and cry some more. But that's the reality of this messy world. And so we do what we can to try to cultivate a life where we're able to show up to the realities of the world as much as we can. Even if that means a photo of our feet.

It happened as I walked across the street to my apartment. I had just been driving in my car from a lunch date with a good friend. I was stuck in unexpected traffic and crabby, and so I (naturally) started replaying the images and articles that I'd come across on the news and in my newsfeed over the last 48 hours. I finally parked my car after 30 minutes of existential crisis. I felt physically exhausted, and I was still supposed to meet someone to go on a run (my first in at least two months) in twenty minutes. I needed a pause. As I walked across the street toward my apartment and stepped onto the curb, I looked down -- and found these leaves.

These leaves caused me -- for the briefest moment -- to see the light at the end of the tunnel as actual light and not a train of impending doom. These leaves reminded me that there are snippets of love and real light in the midst of the cringes and cries that show up on Facebook and CNN. These leaves reminded me to pause and think about all of those who cannot pause, who cannot rest, who cannot find welcome. To whisper a tiny little prayer for them, and for the world, that we may act and speak and care and love others.

To whisper a tiny little prayer for me, for us, that we may care for and love ourselves in the midst of that, too.