Chosen Anyway

A Poem

The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.

—Victor Hugo

What a gift,

that those who love us most—

who endure the barbs of our tongue,

the wreckage of our anger, 

the endless echo of our failings—

love us still.



They choose us when the halo dims and the light fails,

when we are nothing but ourselves,

nothing but broken.



This is grace itself:

to be known completely

and chosen anyway.

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Per my about page, White Noise is a work of experimentation. I view it as a sort of thinking aloud, a stress testing of my nascent ideas. Through it, I hope to sharpen my opinions against the whetstone of other people’s feedback, commentary, and input.

If you want to discuss any of the ideas or musings mentioned above or have any books, papers, or links that you think would be interesting to share on a future edition of White Noise, please reach out to me by replying to this email or following me on Twitter X.

With sincere gratitude,

Tom