May Day Mayday

May 1

Maybe we spend our days looking to the skies for a sign. For the skies to split open and rain down fire while somebody somewhere plays a trumpet.

Maybe we wait for something a little more ordinary—a knock on the door that isn’t from a salesperson. An old wizard? A letter from a far off school? A lawyer with divorce papers?

Or maybe still, we send our own pleas into the universe: trying to put doors where others have built walls, waiting, begging for anyone to walk through them.

Or we send our distress cries out in every direction, as far as our feeble antennas will allow, some kind of mayday, mayday, hoping someone will pick up our distress.

Maybe it’s worth quieting down for a bit, letting other people take on their worlds as they will, acting on our impulses instead of projecting them on others, the cosmos around us?

Or maybe it’s worth doubling down, looking all the more intently, waiting all the wiser, shouting our pleas as loud as our little universes will let us?

Or maybe this, or maybe that, or maybe May day finds us right where we need to be? Leaves us precisely who we need to be?

After all, if you know you need to change, isn’t that same you still doing the knowing?

Morning Reading is a daily email to help center yourself, reflect, and prepare for the day. It’s sent with love from your friend, Zach in Austin, Texas. He even drew the logo himself.

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