How deep your roots. How pleasant your fruit. Tell me your secrets. What is god like? Does he smile, does she dance? Is it fair? Tell me how the beginning was nothing more than the end. How beautiful was the first step of man? The first birth of women. How she elegantly combed her hair. How deep does the soul really go? I wonder if the pain of love is truly etched on our hearts. Can you draw a dream from the scars? I imagine heaven is like soup, tomato soup. Warm, dedicated, and made with love.
To feel imperfection is to be alive. I am faulted. Each day I see a new wrinkle. I trace the receding nature of my hair. I experience the click clack of my knees. I am no longer a child. I see the elderly and do not laugh, I wonder…Who were they then? At what age did sickness and health meet?
I watched (which felt like forever) an elderly man and woman walk
hand-in-hand down the sidewalk. Their pace was painstakingly slow yet unbearable beautiful. Imagine just imagine, once upon a time they ran, ran down sidewalks and skipped across streets – a speed as a child I envied to reach. Long legs. Reassured direction. Knowledge of symbols on poles. No parents.
I envied the older. Now I envy the old. Every tinge I feel, I think to myself this is it. Every night from work before I place my head, I stretch my back. The labor of the day has stiffened its length. In between shifts I stop at the mirror and stare, one day it will not be toothpaste but Poligrip.
This may sound like Hell. I call it beautiful madness. Some wish for cars and mansions, I yearn to grow old. I hope to wake and sit at the edge of the bed to catch my breath. I got up too fast. My heart is racing. I’m sweating like hell! I wish to walk up flights of stairs and stop on the third step as I hold up the line. I’ll smirk at their impatience. I wish to sit in parks all day, barely moving, as the kids ask if I’m alive. I am, just admiring the landscape. I want to go to Church with sunglasses as I nod in and out of sleep – an hour is just too damn long!
I wish for life in my staggered breath. I wish for patience in my “hard a hearing” ears. I wish for wisdom in my speech. I wish for grandchildren that take delight in me telling the same story over and over.
I think today I’ll walk a little slower. Maybe I’ll name my wrinkles. And instead of calling myself faulted and aged, I’ll say congratulations you made it another day.
I was told I was free to choose. I was raised to believe that dreaming was infinite, but somewhere down the line the story changed. Instead, I was forced to conform. Instead, I was told not to speak of my dreams. Instead, I was clothed with half-truths or no truths. Perhaps, I do not understand. Perhaps, I heard wrong. Now, I am fed up. Now, I am shamelessly confused. Now, I do not know if reality is a dream and if my dreams are anything at all. I would love to say that I am chasing my dreams, but sometimes I do not even know if am capable of dreaming.
The dream that we have, is it even our dream? Or is it a dream we were told to dream, a supposed happiness that we should seek. Happiness, what is this happiness? Can anyone define it? Can anyone honestly tell me they are happy and if you can, where do you find it? Are you able to buy it? Are there different types? Do the poor have less of a chance at being happy? Does the middle class have less money to afford happiness than the rich? Where is your happy place?
Somedays I am sure of what I want from life. Somedays I am not even sure I am alive. Somedays I cannot find myself, not even in mirrors – I cast no reflection. I alter between certainty and vagueness. I alter between form and shapelessness. I envision a great tomorrow then I envision mass destruction. Love lays her head next to mine only moments later as I flip the pillow I find a coldness that reaches bone.
I imagine that which is cold was once warm. I imagine it only takes a kind word to change the world. I imagine if I change one cold heart then I have changed the world. I do not fight the coldness, I embrace it. I do not argue with the coldness, I listen. I do not spit at the coldness, I offer it homage and food.
With each spoonful of concern the cold blushes. With each smell of warm smile the cold begins to release its rigid movement. With each sip of hot love the cold glimmers of sparkling memories heart-filled.
And there I find it. And there I feel complete. And there I see myself. And there I exist. I find my Happiness In Blushes.
I sat one day in front of the computer uncomfortable as ever. I was upset, disturbed, and irritated. The worst part about this experience was I did not know why. All I knew was I wanted to scream. My spirit was in turmoil and from past events I have learned you Never ignore an unsettled spirit. So as writers do, I opened a word document. With no effort at all my fingers preordained for this moment typed as my eyes and mind watched in wonderment. I felt like a modern day oracle of Delphi. This is what I prophesied…
– It was the dawn of time when you said you loved me. But as the fish walked the first walk of life you fled. You grabbed the four-legged creature and left me gasping for air. I was the mer-creature left in a swamp of murk. That night the sea grew cold, deep, and unknown. My scales lost its luster and my gills filled with hate. Eyes peering just over the water-esk horizon I saw you leap into the air on its back. Bound not by green but held by blue.
Every crevice became my shelter, eyes no longer needed, sun unseen. Colder and colder I retreated, deeper and deeper I wandered. The sea was my jar of tears. I could not understand why I could not fly, where was my four-legged creature? I could not understand. I swam faster than any sea horse. I could dodge a shiver of megalodons. The pearls I harbored in my pouch caused volcanoes to heel. I am a masterpiece. The children we would rear would bear the name Triton. A dynasty of esteem. –
I am not sure when the rest of the prophesy will come. I know there is more because I can feel it. But I’ll let you know this – as soon as my spirit starts to roll I shall swiftly start to write. But who knows, the spirit does as it pleases. I’ll probably end up with an entirely new and unrelated foretelling.
There is something about sitting down and opening your eyes. Not just any ole type of open, but allowing the world to seep in. No thoughts, No words, Just wonderment. How…HOW do I pass all this magic every day?
I have an immediate need for gratification, what can I say I’m a New Yorker! I want everything now and I want it fast! I have a need to control time for I was led to believe it is against me. I am 23 years old and I am not the President of the world or acquired my first platinum album – I am behind, I’m going to die any day now for age has caught me by the neck! I should be a millionaire by now, I should be coupled up and making moves towards a house and marriage. The thoughts were driving me insane. And then to top it off everyone was telling me that I should be a lawyer, a doctor, a politician, a professor, a this, a that. After a while it takes a toll on you. Am I wasting my intelligence? Am I choosing the right career? Should I have a significant other by now? No wonder I have an immediate gratification “complex.” How the heck do you expect me to decide where I want to live, who I want to be, how much money I want to make, where I want to get married and how I want to impact the world at 17 years old?! I did not even know who I was!! And now I’m 23 and I still do not know who I am.
AND that is ok— the first step.
It is ok if I do not know what I want to be. It is ok if I do not have a significant other. It is ok if I do not know where I want to live or exactly how I want to impact the world. Did you know at 23? All I know is that I want to be happy. I want to love and be loved. I want to laugh, eat, and dance! Oh boy do I love to dance. I want to sing with my brothers, dance with my mother, and lie next to my father and dream!
I have taken a vow to slow down – the second step.
The days pass us by so fast because we walk inside our heads. I dare you to walk across the parking lot open your eyes and look at the trees; listen to nature’s instruments. Make a cup of coffee and just take in the scent and look at the swirling colors in the mug – let life fill you with its joy – the third step. When I do this my heart rate de-accelerates, my paining thoughts are diminished (almost non-existent), my body becomes calm, and my spirit swirls. Suddenly and miraculously I realize I have all the time in the world, that where I am now is where I am meant to be. Time is an ally. The man/woman that cut me off is not important. Life is beautiful.