Despite muddled emotions, I respect religion. In practice, those with faith turn to books — the written word — for answers, as do I. On days when the air is too thick, karmic fingers scrape for the nearest sturdy spine. I grab the closest novel, let the pages fall as they may, and scan until I find a passage that speaks to my something-missing. Scriptures, novels. Poetry, prose. What’s the difference when all you are searching for is a place to breathe? In, out. I am. I am. I am.
Over the course of more recent years, I’ve encountered exaltation and victory. I’ve met physical pain. I’ve been tired. So tired. I’ve gone through the motions. And now I’ve weighed in the palms of my hands the truth of what I once feared I’d never own: I have an endless capability for love and self-sacrifice. Amongst all of my failures and shortcomings, at least there is that.
I am not solid. I am not complete (are you listening?). And I stopped believing that anybody else is, either. I can only conclude that we are all so keenly aware of all of our own shortcomings and our selfish urgency for hiding places that we stymie our innate abilities to provide refuge for anyone else.
On Mondays especially, I wish we’d all just see each other for what we really are: imperfections seeking umbrellas.
It’s ok to be in motion. It’s ok to not worry about or fear the future. It’s ok to accept that my days are numbered. It’s ok to be drastic.
Sometimes, “it’s ok” isn’t a lie at all. Sometimes, “It’ll be ok. You’ll be ok” isn’t a hope or a maybe, and it’s because you already are.
I am no longer in a hurry. I’ve got all the time you are willing to give me. I’ve spent too many of my rawest days looking for anchorage, looking to hide. Honesty, integrity, change. I see that it is important to be what you are in the moment — a human, a person. I just really want to be a good person. It matters.
You can let me down. I’ll be ok.
Get enough rest. Read enough. Eat what grows from dirt and reaches to the sunlight. Seek education. Keep your palms to the sky and your (rather flat) feet moving forward. Be grateful. Hold hands. Overcome complacency. Find places to help.
Get up. Get up, take up your map, and walk.
Where the pages fell:
“The world turns on our every action, and our every omission, whether we know it or not.”