Three pictures.
Patience is the greatest advantage. Time brings all answers. Knowing that the sun will rise again tomorrow puts the mind at ease.
Sometimes you just need to wait.
Posts tagged with "hope"
Weightless Notebook
I’m at the point now where I don’t need to carry around a notebook to keep track of the subjects and ideas I want to write about later. There are so many things to say that I only end up remembering the important ones anyway. It’s like a subconscious way of filtering out the things that aren’t worth mentioning.
A good feeling. As if life never ceases to be interesting, and there’s always something to experience, to learn, and to tell.
It's The First Week Of Spring
The city begins to melt as the sun warms soil and pavement alike. Trickles of water run everywhere while the ice dissolves, a prescient sign of the streams soon to be come from lawn sprinklers and car wash hoses, as excess finds its way to sewer grates. By night, the temperature drops below freezing again and the small urban currents turn solid. Pedestrians practice their waddles in the morning as they maneuver across the slippery patches. The only remains of ice are the paths left compressed by the trampling of feet through the winter.
Every day I wake up it’s a little brighter, in my room, and in my mind.
Meet Me In Montauk
I admit that some movies, some scenes, some songs, some moments, still rub me the wrong way. In general this is a good thing: the harder it is to let go of something, the better the experience it was. I’m also given hope in understanding that these things will pass, as all things pass, and everything will be put in its right place. Fortunately, this is easy to accept because of the fact that I’ve already gone through a full cycle with others. Perhaps I’ve also become accustomed to some residual emotions, kept alive by the memories of the origins of lessons learned.
But all of this still doesn’t detract from the fact that some things still rub me the wrong way, as if my skin was peeled and every conjured sensation was a salt water burn. I can feel that sound in my ears, feel the prismatic dancing of light in my eyes, feel her say, “prismatic”, explaining the colour of her hair.
It’s not even the person with which I share these experiences that makes it important, it’s the experiences themselves, because they mean something. A change in my life. A change that may have not have happened otherwise.
And I realize that it’s not that I can’t let these memories go, it’s that I choose not to.
The Next Level
I used to seethe, stew, and marinate. If I was in a bad mood, I wanted to stay in a bad mood because, somehow, I would want to make it worth it. I figure that if something is bad enough to make me sour, I shouldn’t be easily taken out of that frame of mind. It’s the same with forgiveness. I’m slow to anger, but once I’m there, I’m extremely slow to forgive, for the exact same reason.
For years, I would listen to music to help me wallow in these emotions. It would cradle me, fuel me until the emotion burned out. Listening this way, with a surge of sentiment, would let me feel the notes, and I would savour every second, minute, and eventual hour of it.
Lately, though, I hear music differently. It inspires me. It moves me. It helps me out of an emotion, instead of into one. And it feels like this change is a reflection of how much my life is changing now, how I’m beginning to see the entire world around me in such a profoundly different way.
As if everything that’s past is prologue to this.