Do you ever have those moments where, out of the blue, everything around you becomes so magic and so beautiful that you can't help but be overcome with gratitude? Something small, out of the corner of your eye, grabs you and suddenly your senses heighten and every sight, smell, and sound become cause for joyful celebration of life?
I was sitting on my couch, somewhat lonely and very bored when I looked up and noticed the pink clouds of the setting sun. I went out and stood on my balcony, and saw that while the sky was full of pinks, purples, reds, and oranges against a bluegray sky, everything else began to fade to a silhouette. The birch and palm trees black against the horizon, the imperfections of abandoned buildings softened, the railroads quiet as the last commuter trains rolled away in the distance.
Suddenly the sweet, floral scent of delicate perfume carried in the cool evening breeze and I couldn't help but smile, it was so pretty. Then just as quickly as it came, the savory aroma of my next door neighbor's homemade mexican dinner left my mouth watering, while the warmth of two friends laughing on their porch forced a smile on my sad lips.
I looked down and watched the last trail of ants carry food in a line back to their home, and looked up to see cars and trucks and bikes mimicking nature and took a moment's comfort in the rhythm of the universe.
It was almost too much. I came back in and got a glass of water. Reflected on my solitary state, and felt less lonely and more content. This tiny apartment is my carved out space, my personal sanctuary, my heart's refuge... and its lazy cats and predictable reliability is so much more my blessing than my trap, which is what it has felt like since the day I signed the lease.
It was a nice ten minutes. Because I sure have felt awful sad and tired inside for longer than I even know. But it's nice to feel the gratitude, the happiness, the joy underneath it all because that is what seems authentic. The sadness, though it lasts too long, is never what lies at the core.
It might be time to start tearing down some walls, if I can stop being afraid.
I was sitting on my couch, somewhat lonely and very bored when I looked up and noticed the pink clouds of the setting sun. I went out and stood on my balcony, and saw that while the sky was full of pinks, purples, reds, and oranges against a bluegray sky, everything else began to fade to a silhouette. The birch and palm trees black against the horizon, the imperfections of abandoned buildings softened, the railroads quiet as the last commuter trains rolled away in the distance.
Suddenly the sweet, floral scent of delicate perfume carried in the cool evening breeze and I couldn't help but smile, it was so pretty. Then just as quickly as it came, the savory aroma of my next door neighbor's homemade mexican dinner left my mouth watering, while the warmth of two friends laughing on their porch forced a smile on my sad lips.
I looked down and watched the last trail of ants carry food in a line back to their home, and looked up to see cars and trucks and bikes mimicking nature and took a moment's comfort in the rhythm of the universe.
It was almost too much. I came back in and got a glass of water. Reflected on my solitary state, and felt less lonely and more content. This tiny apartment is my carved out space, my personal sanctuary, my heart's refuge... and its lazy cats and predictable reliability is so much more my blessing than my trap, which is what it has felt like since the day I signed the lease.
It was a nice ten minutes. Because I sure have felt awful sad and tired inside for longer than I even know. But it's nice to feel the gratitude, the happiness, the joy underneath it all because that is what seems authentic. The sadness, though it lasts too long, is never what lies at the core.
It might be time to start tearing down some walls, if I can stop being afraid.
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
thescarykid:
Yup... yup.. yup
kadynne:
Beautiful!