You ever lay your burdens at God’s feet — all solemn and sincere — and then start pulling them back like:
“Okay, okay, but not that one. That one’s sentimental.”
“And that one’s still kind of juicy with pain. I’m not done picking at it yet.”
“And this one? That’s my backup burden. For when things get boring.” “Wait, I didn’t mean to let that one go, it’s the part that defines me.” “You know what, I changed my mind, you can’t have any of them.”
Yeah. That’s me.
Playing cosmic sike with the Divine like I’m testing return policies on spiritual surrender. I should have known I was setting myself to que the twilight zone music.
So today I head out wearing my shirt that says:
“I match energy, so how we gon’ act today?”
I just wanted cigarettes.
Nothing deep. Nothing symbolic.
But the moment the person in front of me hits the register — the power goes out.
And I just start chuckling — because of course it does.
Cashier blinks at the screen. Says it’ll be five minutes for the system to reboot.
What follows is five minutes of total vibe shift — not frustration, not chaos — just comedy.
We joke about birds pecking transformers.
I drop a line about Java loading like it’s the year 2000 and someone in the back of the line snorts.
The energy turns playful, light.
No one’s mad.
People are laughing.
We made a glitch into a gathering.
I get home and — as if on cue — the mama deer shows up.
Not just with her twin fawns like before, but now with a third baby.
A new one.
This one with a twitchy leg.
And I just stood there watching.
Because that wasn’t just wildlife.
That was a living message.
Expansion.
Inclusion.
Imperfect progress.
Not everything that walks with you will walk easily — but it walks with you just the same.
And what did I do?
I sent that little twitchy-legged one some energy. Not out of pity.
Out of kinship.
Because I get it.
I came out today thinking I was lightening my load.
Trying — again — to let the Divine take the weight.
And what I got in return?
A crash course in cosmic comedy, spontaneous community, and the sacredness of surrendering inch by inch.
Because sometimes the system goes down just to show you how you act when it does.
And sometimes the deer show up with three babies just to remind you:
Even in the slow, messy, unexpected parts of life —
the magic is still moving.
Me?
I’m just out here,
an Empress in the making,
learning to trust…
even in the glitches.
With reverence, radiance, love, and light,
Charming White Eyes