Musings
Shannon Kropf
Falling Face-First

And I feel like we’ve missed the chance to learn some profound truth, that we’ve turned away from some universal doorway that led to a better place. Everybody wants to get back to “normal,” and I can’t shake the feeling that “normal” just ain’t that great.

Falling Face-First
Musings
Shannon Kropf
Traffic and Assholes

It seems unlikely that anyone would thrive in the midst of a worldwide pandemic, and yet here I sit, and here I grow, a lot like that pesky weed that keeps cropping up in the crack in the sidewalk. In the most odd environment, life is present.

Traffic and Assholes
Shannon Kropf
It’s Been a Year

The gentle rocking of the universe and the lullaby that sings, “I am here. You are safe.”

It’s Been a Year
Blog
Shannon Kropf
...Elsewhere

Death is an incontrovertible part of life. 

Why do we struggle so? What is it about this final veil--the veil which separates forever the living from the dead--that causes us to beat our flying fists against it so firmly, so resolute with no result? If death is a part of life, why does it hurt so much?

...Elsewhere
Shannon Kropf
Two Years Later: Processing the PULSE Nightclub ...

There is so much material online about the PULSE nightclub shooting on June 12, 2016. I can’t possibly do a better job of honoring the victims—both living and dead—of the massacre. But I can share with you the weight of it, the heft, the residual dread and anxiety, that this anniversary stirs up for someone who wasn’t there and didn’t know anyone who was hurt or killed.

But I know a lot of people who do. And I watched with them as the day unfolded and the horror became known and real.

Two Years Later: Processing the PULSE Nightclub Shooting

Cat

Dottie the Cat Demonstrates Quantum Entanglement

Dottie the Cat Demonstrates Quantum Entanglement

Meet my cat. Her name is Dottie. She is a cat of different color, if you’ll excuse my usurping of a familiar phrase. You see, Dottie is both cat and companion to me. “Companion” doesn’t really cover it though; she has been an unexpected comforter, empath, and confidante to me. We nap together—I would say, “peacefully,” but she is on a never-ending quest to get all four paws on me at the same time, and therefore and has a squirm-factor that is off the charts. She is my co-writer of music and editor of articles. She touches my face when I am sad, and makes me laugh with silly acrobatics. She is my spirit animal and I love her beyond measure.

And she is dying.