Tag Archives: Story

We, Who

 

And just like that I’ll pick up exactly where I left off – motivated equally by envy and need – sensing the crushing boundaries of time

So, I  breathe in the eternity of now, write it down; make it permanent.

I’ve spent at least the last decade trying to mold the real world into the one inside my head and have spent a good part of it wondering if I’ve dedicated myself to a false reality. It’s silly, really. I am a professional at making things reality by assuming they are such. It has served me well. I write, so I am a writer. I travel, so I am a traveller, I instigate, therefore I am an instigator. There’s nothing false about it.

I’ve more words in my head than I know what to do with; emotions that don’t always lend themselves to translation. And in raw moments of reflection, I know for certain I am capable of more.

There are others out there like me. We, who wallow in damp silence. We, who can shake rooms with our rage; we, who reject oppressive schedules . We, who understand that proximity to fear is both pain and pleasure. We, who indulge in embarrassing moments of bravery.

We, who make impossible things lovely.

We, who know we are not reconciled to chains.

We are all learning through the tension of uncertainty, and are all a little removed from okay.

Tonight, instead of sitting in expectation of more, I’ll assume it is such, and make it so.

🙂

Oh, The Places We’ve Been

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A wise woman once told me to never love material things.

“Never love anything that can’t love you back.,” she said as though she was singing, like the Irish often sound.

The truth is, when I think about all of the most incredible and beautiful moments in my life, I don’t think much about the fancy hotels we stayed in or how big my house was, or all the gadgets and toys we were lucky enough to have.

No, I remember the moments of pure beauty.

These past two years, without even meaning to, I’ve kind of made a habit of making my own dreams reality. And it’s not even until weeks after I’ve done something, that I reflect upon it and think ‘Hey! I always wanted to do that! and I just did it!’

It takes me a bit to realize the enormity of that.

Every time I see something that takes my breath away, I think it must be the most extraordinary place in the world, until I see something else that takes my breath away. And this cycle continues over and over until I’m able to string together enough remarkable moments that I can collapse under the weight of Gratitude.

Whatever your beliefs or non-beliefs, there’s something very spiritual, and infinitely bigger than yourself, about the experience of truly being in the moment outside of anything man-made.

And when you immerse yourself in it, it all comes back; the sounds, the smells. A sense that you were made to do this.

You don’t have to go to the Himalayas or climb K2 to experience adventure. We live in Nature’s playground. It’s right in our backyard.

It’s one magnificently beautiful view surpassing the next. The only struggle is which scene to capture and how to describe it in words.

If you let go of all you’ve learned to forget, you’ll remember it’s exactly where you were intended to be.

The world will love you back if you get out there and allow it.

One.

Onepic

She loves him still.

Especially in late September when fog hangs thick and low. When she allows herself to indulge in all the memories of what was supposed to be; when she closes her eyes long enough, he is right there with her.

She can’t remember how long ago she lost him, but when she spotted him this evening, everything that ever felt unfinished in her life rose up to face her. He was right there in front of her, slouched over his coffee in the same weighty posture he had before he grew older.

She stood there unmoving, watching him through the coffee shop window. She studied his furrowed brow and the way his lips paused to blow and cool his coffee. People were chattering all around him, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was so far away. Life had hardened his once boyish face, but his eyes were exactly the same.

He looked up as though he was willed to, and caught her staring at him.

Blood rushed up her chest, down her arms and through her fingertips. She lost all ability to breathe and the only thing she could hear was her heart pounding in her ears.

Yes, she loves him still.