Coming Soon: My Unapologetic Playlist
What I Know About Yesterday Me, Today Me, and the Elusive Tomorrow Me
Mar 30, 2026
The Lost and Found
What do you do when something awful happens; something so dreadful that you lose the context around which you’ve built your life; so disastrous that you lose your very self?
As for me, I began to write—out of desperation, in a bid to recover or rebuild myself. I write because I know no other means to traverse this devastation. I write, without intent, without expectation for what will emerge—but trusting that something restorative, or at least honest, will land on the page.
In the quiet hours before dawn, wide awake, I wrestle with thoughts that won’t recede and savour words that reveal more than I imagined they could. And music comes with me. I write and I listen to music. Like a music arranger, I absorb the melody and lyrics and metabolize them through my soul. What emerges is prose stripped to its vulnerable core: Theories and queries about love, loss, faith, the past, present, and future. Resisting the urge to cling to concrete answers or promises made to a future self who is nothing more than a mist, the story unfolds in real time—responding to circumstances, embracing uncertainty, and finding meaning in single lines that grow as I water them. At times bringing raw cynicism; other times, a voice of stubborn hope. Unfiltered questions for the darkness, sincere discourse with the light. An exploration of the person I was, acceptance for the person I am, and a quest to uncover the person I might capriciously become.
The Homestead
This journal is a homestead for all of that. Loss—whether the sudden cataclysmic type or the subtle sustained kind—is not just an event, but a series of moments that shape who we are and who we may—or may no longer—become. You’re invited to witness and join this unsettled journey where connecting, processing, and learning to grieve become a collective experience. Where even the smallest heartbreaks are worthy of exploration and commemoration.
So, linger as I share stories born of restless ponderings and lines scribbled after midnight. Loiter among keystrokes exploring the formation of an unforetellable future. Eavesdrop a little over this deeply personal conversation and experience the power of a single line to spark connection.
When calamity struck, my headphones were my medication and my pen and ink became my lifeline and compass. As you engage in my musings, whether it be through the prose or the attached playlists, may you find yourself a little closer to home.
I like that you call your journal a homestead. I've felt that way about mine but didn't have the right word. My heart goes out to you in your grief. 💛
This is beautifully written—using music and writing as a way to process everything feels so intentional and grounding!!!