Dear Crooked Collage On The Wall,
For days, I have been glimpsing you from the corner of my eye. I’ve even stood directly in front of you and debated setting you straight. But, my mother gave me stubbornness as well as a touch of OCD, and the Navajo taught me about the sanctuary found in imperfection, so I eventually walked away without a word or a touch. And that’s all it would take, really, a touch. One simple extended finger lightly pushing you to the side. So easy. So quick.
Every time I look at you I see a chance to right things. I see possibility. Some aspects of life right now are pretty dire, but others are incredible and exciting. When I look at crooked you, I see that beauty comes through whether you are aligned with your surroundings or not. I know that bit of sanctuary the Navajo taught me about is something to cradle in the hours of my day. Your tilted frame invites me to willfully adjust my perspective. To let the negative thoughts in my head have a focus for a moment, then be dismissed. Shih nih bi-teen, mind my road. You, dear Crooked Collage On The Wall, help me do just that. You keep me on my toes, aware, and you challenge me. I just wanted to take a moment to thank you.