All posts by X Teri

WWJD

What would Jesus do we used to ask

you never hear that anymore

Pastor Joel locks his opulent doors

we pass laws so we can’t help our hungry brothers

place barricades to thwart those who are weary 

What would Jesus do, I ask 

He would have compassion for the poor, the sick, and the lesser 

He would hold those in contempt who don’t feel the same 

He would look at these monuments of stone 

and weep for those suffering without need

The cross that so many bear around their necks 

bear witness to the disconnect of his message

Anger, judgment, and superiority reign supreme 

This is a world of man, steadfastly avoiding looking up 

They are cherry pickers and honor only convenience

The cross that so many bear around their necks 

have lost their meaning

What would Jesus do 

Not this 

Not this 

Not this

Elaborate boxes

elaborate boxes

get out of these elaborate boxes you’ve built up to the sky

stop waiting for divine intervention to rescue us all

we have all we need to share the wealth

practice what you preach and let your actions show

that you care for your brothers lying on the street

If it’s a question of deserving, none of us comply

love your neighbor as yourself wasn’t a request

it’s where it starts and where it ends

if you can’t give it all freely, just give it time

this world conspires to humble us all to bent knees

get out of the elaborate boxes you’ve built up to the sky

get out of the elaborate boxes you’ve built up to the sky

love is action and warm embraces for the least of us all

{if you can’t do that, religion ain’t gonna help you}

get out of the elaborate boxes you’ve built up to the sky

Love, X
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Purple Rain Memory

I do not think a long-lost memory would have returned to me today had I not been showering in the dark. Alexa played the the song I almost always listen to – “Tiny Dancer,” and then went to the next song: “Purple Rain.” 

For those of you who don’t know that there is a term for repetitive sensory input, it’s called stimming. One of the odd consequences of receiving the same sensory information repetitively is that sometimes the act of repetition results in an almost blank state of mind. It can work like meditation or cognitive distraction, much like the tendency toward having shower thoughts.

People sometimes ask me why I shower in the dark. At times, it amplifies the disconnect that brings disassociated shower thoughts. 

As the song played, I felt like a light flashed in my head. The long lost memory came to me. My brain traveled 39 years into the past. At first, all I could recall is that a high school band friend had dragged me somewhere to watch “Purple Rain” the movie at someone’s house. I couldn’t remember which bandmate it was. He knew my circumstances and that I did not get out much. It seems like I can remember the names of four or five people who also watched the movie. For some odd reason, Winfield Watson is the most vivid name and face among those who were there. 

I hadn’t thought of that movie night in years. Had someone asked me about it, I’m convinced I would have told them they were mistaken. 

The moment in the shower left me feeling like I was on the verge of a flood of newly-accessed memories. It took me a long time to realize how many gaps I had in my childhood memories. I understand why that it’s the case. Having this one took me by surprise and it lingers. 

X

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2025

I got up at 12:15 a.m. Flashing blue lights bounced through the windows. Instantaneously, I remembered my impromptu intervention in someone’s life before I went to bed. I forget the number of times in the last 3 years I’ve stuck my hand in a window or tried to offer words or a hug as needed and without thinking. I can’t decide if it’s foolish or the right thing to do.

Convinced that the worst had happened, I went outside into the cold morning (or late night, depending on your viewpoint). 3 or4 police vehicles lined Gregg Avenue. To my left, I noticed that my neighbor’s vehicle was gone. 

Probably in part due to the other news from yesterday morning, I was certain the worst happened to my neighbor. Just as I was walking toward the street toward a police car that had my parking lot blocked, I heard a clear voice speaking in Spanish. 

…Which meant my neighbor wasn’t involved. It’s about 1:00 in the morning now. But that strange cloying feeling that something is off has not lessened. 

I’m on my second cup of coffee, scrolling the news and social media.  I can’t watch for the Quadrantids meteors this morning because it’s too cloudy. 

Didn’t we all ask that 2025 be like a lazy Sunday afternoon with a sleeping dog or cat on our laps? 

X

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December In The Silence

Banal magic. Walking along the early December streets when the world is silent but my mind isn’t. 

The fog and humidity that permeated the air made the attempt of a snapshot tricky. Because my brain is a feedback loop, the words from SFU ran through my head: “…it’s already gone.” But I tried because sometimes in the briefest of intervals and through the indiscernible capricious luck of the moment, I get a picture that defies the inability to describe the universe in my head at that moment. 

One such picture escaped me. As I walked the dead end length of Leverett, rabbit after rabbit fled from the greens of the apartment complex and across the road into the thick brush. At least a hundred of them made the odyssey in front of me along that strip of road. Does the moment sound magical or mirthsome to people after the fact? Probably not; such moments require presence.

When I doubled back down Poplar, a man on a ridiculously large bicycle asked if I had any money.  I told him no. I saw him near the torn up section of sidewalk being rebuilt near the trail and suspected he might ask me something as I approached. I didn’t catch what he said in reply but the tone was inescapable. “I’m sorry. Have a good morning,”I told him. “F*** you,”he said. “Anatomically improbable,” was my reply. I once again did not catch his response. I’m certain my life is much better because of it.

As I walked the streets, I took a long look at all the houses still lit up by Christmas lights. I wondered if the sentiment of holiday charity and kindness would last as the new year approaches. 

Something I read yesterday popped into my head: “If you don’t give when you have little, you won’t when you have a lot. If you don’t practice attention and love when you’re busy, you won’t when you’re idle. If you don’t wave hello first and often, don’t be surprised if the world seems hostile. And if you haven’t lived long enough to know that on a long enough timeline you could be everyone you see around you, give it time.”

The words sound like a New Year’s invocation. And they feel true. 

Love, X

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Cold Wisdom

Since I went to sleep too early last night, I was up at 12:30. I took advantage to attempt to see the less spectacular Ursid meteor shower. The vantage point in the open parking lot about a half a mile away had too much radiant light interfering. It confuses me when I’m up at that hour because the bars and strip joints still thrive with people making dubious choices. 

But back at the apartment, I used my Star Walk app to orient myself facing Ursa Minor. Normal people refer to it as the Little Dipper. Our current North Star, Polaris, is the end of the handle of the dipper. It could not have been more ideal due to the towering pine trees behind my apartment blocking the moonlight – and most of the city’s lights. The Ursid meteors are more sporadic. I always find myself half frozen with a crick in my neck from soft-focusing my eyes toward the sky. 

Flight Delta DAL 2036 flying from Salt Lake to Fort Lauderdale flew over at 38,000 ft. It was pretty dazzling. 🙂 

I accidentally learn something each time I take the time or make the time to watch the sky. It’s rare for me to watch the stars and not think of my grandpa pointing toward the constellations. He wasn’t well educated. But like most people of his generation, knowing things like that was second nature. Before good maps, GPS, and all the things we take for granted. I wonder what he would think or say if he were standing next to me at 2:00 a.m. in the morning, watching me hold one of the most advanced communication and information devices ever created. 

The irony of me using such a device to watch and learn about remnants of our universe that are 4.5 billion years old isn’t lost on me. 

One thing I do know. Grandpa would have laughed if I told him I was cold and it was about damn time for another cup of coffee. I got my jadeite green coffee cup off the shelf when I went inside. As I drank from it, I thought about the fifty years I’d enjoyed between now and the first time I learned the name of a constellation. 

“Age does not bring wisdom. It brings experience that teaches you that everything passes whether you do anything about it or not.”

X

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Cold – Sublime

Cold winter solstice morning. 

After capturing some birds on my Merlin app, I got on the swing facing the sun. The light blinded me. I wasn’t looking outward anyway.

The cold penetrated me, but it was temporary. 

Everything is, even this sublime moment that looks like a part of an ordinary day. 

Love, X

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The Last Of Us Episode 3

“The Last of Us,” episode 3 was one of the best episodes of TV I’ve watched. It compares to season 1 of “True Detective.” 

Although the episode arc is more akin to a standalone episode, the humanity it contains astonished me. Nick Offerman stole the show. 

I’m unfamiliar with the video game. This show is one of those rare gems that defies the genre. Both for video games and post-apocalyptic stories  Episode 3 was the stellar episode of the first season. 

The final dinner scene revealed a stunning grasp of love amidst pain. 

X

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#nickofferman #thelastofus

Afterwit

There are few opportunities to deploy clever comebacks. Usually, the moment passes, and I think of the perfect response afterward. The French phrase “L’esprit de l’escalier” describes the experience of knowing the ideal reply later. Believe it or not, we have an obsolete phrase in English that encapsulates the same idea: “afterwit.” I vote we bring it back. 

This morning, I proudly used a comeback promptly. 

One of the late-nighters stood by the eternally malfunctioning soda dispenser. These denizens of the night are sometimes called zombies because their higher brain functioning dissipated at least six hours earlier. 

“You look familiar,” she said. 

“I don’t know how. I’ve been in prison for twenty-two years.”

The late-nighter missed the humor in my reply. The clerk looked up and tried not to smile. She’s accustomed to my idiocy. People have a variety of mistaken beliefs about me, all of which I actively encourage. 

“I’m sure I’ve seen you before,” the late-nighter added.

“Well, I used to be in a LOT of adult films.” I didn’t crack a smile. 

As I left, the late-nighter asked the clerk, “Who the hell WAS that?”

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