a friend called one day this summer and asked if i wanted to hang out over the weekend. the yes was right there, ready to go. i wanted to go, not gonna lie. but i had work i'd promised myself i'd stay steady on. so i told him i'd get back to him later that day, and i sat down with it. i didn't want to answer out of being excited. so i put my hand over my heart and said "here." and the answer was no, and i'd already made up my mind it was staying no, whatever he said when i told him. that one didn't happen in a half-second. it took sitting down. i'm starting with it because every part showed up that day, so they're easy to point at.
the hoodie i made has a word where the hand goes. PRESENT, stitched on the left chest. written down, what i do with it is one line: drift. touch. say "here." return. what each one is in my life takes longer.
drift is the one i never decide to do. it's my habit running, and by the time i know i'm in it i've been in it a while. the clearest one i've got is the chips going in, the same as every day, without me deciding it. so drift isn't a thing i do. it's the thing i find out i've been doing.
and i don't think i notice it and then reach for the word. the hand is there at the same time, or the hand gets there first. the noticing comes a beat behind it. my hand knows where the word is before my head does. on the night this started there was no word yet, just my hand on my heart in a car. the word came later. i put it where the hand had already been.
then i say "here." out loud if nobody's around, in my head if someone is. i say it to check that i've still got myself, the way i did that first night. it's one word, and the period is part of it.
return is the small one. i don't do anything for it. it's the flowers on the dolly, or the work on my desk, or the spec on my phone, with me back at it. the other week i was on my phone reading the spec for the next drop, trying to stay with it. then the tornado siren went off here in chicago, and i lost the spec and laughed. five minutes later a cruiser went by with its siren on, and i laughed again. what got me back the first time was the spec. the second time it was the thing i was typing. both times it was just what was in front of me.
and then there's the one i didn't catch. in july my boss handed me a job because it was too heavy for someone else to carry. i went back and forth on it in my head for a while. should i do it, or should i not. and if i don't, who's gonna do it. ok, so nobody can. i'll just say yes then. and the yes went out. my hand never went up. the truth is someone could have done it, or there was a better way to do it. there's always another way. but yes or no was the only question i asked, and it was never the answer to that job. the answer was in the job itself, in why nobody could carry it, and i never looked there.
the hand is there to put me a beat in front of the next thing. that way i'm the one deciding it. that's what i do when i catch it. and when i don't, it's the same hand, later, if i notice at all.
it doesn't need the hoodie. if you want to try it, try it for a week and see what you catch.