The View

Ahead; that’s where it feels like the ‘solution’ lies. The next step (not where I am). Tomorrow (not today). Another person (not you). Somewhere else (not here). The alternate scene in my head (not reality).

Is it any wonder, then, that this grasping forward always leaves one empty-handed?

I am trying to teach the palm of my hands to close upon what I do have. Not to keep it (we own nothing; but that’s another train of thought). But to experience it being there, like I am being here. I am trying to teach my soul to sit still in the shell where it resides, and learn to make it home (for a while). To kiss sensation against the weight of bones as if to finally say, all right, I will hold you till you die. I will not fight this being alive.

I am learning to carry the grief instead of running from it.

Give truth the spotlight; come out of parenthesis. Out of subtext. And live directly into now.

I used to think it was true what they said: like attracts like. What you think is what you get. Think it, and it will be so. And it all seemed to work.
For a little while.

Polishing the outside, making up a face, putting on a smile, wearing the attitude—all these things are necessary at times. But if you never stopped to also clean out the inside, all that decoration is only added weight on a surface starting to crack from a lack of something fundamental. The brightest décor is useless on a foundation giving way.

You are not weak to have stopped. There is distinction between premonition and fear. You didn’t think this into existence. If anything, you simply avoided a greater disaster.

And if that truth can change so easily with perspective, maybe truth never had a single face. And if it has many faces, then there must be many points of view to it.

Which one is yours?

Constants

Years ago, a friend once told me I had so much potential but that something was always holding me back from meeting it. Back when she said this, it was usually a boy. She went on to draw me a picture—after the everyday consumption of energy post our dedication to our daily tasks and responsibilities, the hours spent simply working to sustain our lives, etc., we have very little time left for ourselves, as little as 10% of a day—that is it!

She described a scene from her balcony one day—looking down upon a young couple having an emotional fit on her street. That was easily me all those years ago, just on someone else’s street. What a waste of time. What a waste of this impermanent life.

And yet. “I fall in love with everyone I meet.”
(Do you remember that line? It’s from a movie I absolutely adored.)

It is years now since my friend spoke those words, and I didn’t know how deep the issue ran, but this is what I do—I still fall in love with everyone I meet. It’s not even a romantic kind of love; it doesn’t have to be.

It is listening, caring, getting involved, worrying about what they think, weighing every word I speak, reading too much into theirs, putting them before me.

It was a while before I realized not everyone lives this way. That when someone else speaks, it isn’t always a heart to heart—it’s just a learned conversation at times. A repetition of things they’ve allowed themselves to say, while the rest stays guarded. That’s also when I realized I had no guard. If I spoke to you, I was an open book, not pausing to wonder if you would want to read. Most people don’t, by the way. And rightly so. It’s their 10% to keep!

People come, people go. That’s how it works. To every story that begins, an end follows. Because that is life too. The only thing to hold on to is a constant. Constants aren’t forever either but just that: constant—the only something to remain with you through every storm or calm; the thing that gives you back your breath after life knocks it right out. Also—and this is the important bit—constants are usually not a person.

I’m learning now to acknowledge mine. Words, stories, art—they all coalesce to form a record of moments in life. To say, this happened. I was there; I felt it with my every sense. This was not just in my head—but even if it was, it was real to me in every way.

For a while now, I’ve been wanting to write something longer. Something more raw than the momentary rush of a poem, and something a little clearer than the ambiguity of metaphors.

This is my record of forming stronger constants during my 10%.

Until next time.

:)

Instagram Updates

I thought I'd mentioned it , but clearly not.
You may now (finally) find the links to my Instagram page(s) on this blog (it's to your right).

The past year, I got on Instagram for the first time and tried to stay consistent with whatever projects I was taking on. In an effort to streamline things, I have ended up with three (yep) Instagram handles (dedicated to art, crafts, and writing). And while this does keep thoughts looking organized, I might have complicated things for myself personally--it's just that many more passwords to remember!

Go ahead and follow the Instagram pages for more regular updates (it's just easier).
But something tells me the old-school itch to drop a line here might kick in from time to time.
So see you here, too!

And as always, thank you for reading.
:)