Impulsive moments make me feel alive.
Tonight, I had an impulsive moment.
I took a run around my neighborhood for the fist time. I’ve lived here since January and it hadn’t even crossed my mind yet.
But tonight it did. So I ran and gave my thoughts twenty minutes to define themselves.
At the end of my run I called in at my local shop to pick up some groceries. On my way home I found myself on a familiar street which I’ve only ever driven on, never walked on. And it was empty. Nothing but me and my grocery bag in my left hand and some detergent in my right. The city’s skyline had won me and I was lost somewhere in its ever changing reflections and movements. Loneliness or the city noise didn’t undermine the moment.
House lights filled homes with warmth and leaked onto the pavements outside and danced on the concrete bringing colour and life to it. And there I was, finally inspired to write again. I took a left turn too soon and ended up going in the wrong direction but I didn’t care, the city streets took me away to inspiration and enthusiasm, places which have been somewhere slightly forgotten to me for a while now.
I couldn’t get home quick enough. I just hoped I wouldn’t bump into anyone I knew in case my thoughts would leave me again. Clinging onto them, I drifted home staring at the clear sky, holding my grocery bag and detergent as if they were my only possessions.
Running upstairs I looked for my journal to write all of this down and I couldn’t find it. But anything would do. I found an old letter and wrote these words down. Words which would remind me of a time when my inspiration came back and brought me life.
And if these words somehow find you, I hope your inspiration, your passion or your hope returns to you also. And I hope they make you feel alive, even if it’s only for 20 minutes on a Thursday night.
Wall Street stands firm, confident in her ability to make money seem beautiful. But doesn’t beauty lye in the eye of the beholder?
I stood on Wall Street staring at the new Tiffany shop which compelled her customers to admire and adore her fabulous, expensive and outrageous diamonds.
Across the road were protesters with signs “fear Wall Street not us”. They were passionately furious with the drive that Wall Street’s love of money, which she pushes to make the world go around.
Liberty Street is stood tall next to Wall Street. What at oxymoron. Liberty stands for freedom, hope and a new life, yet due to the demand which Wall Street ignorantly brings, the protesters fight for that freedom which blissfully hovers somewhere slightly forgotten.
Liberty Street has compassion on her guests, welcoming them and encouraging them to make their voice known.
Seeing this gave me an insight. I was standing between Liberty and Tiffany; neither beautiful but rather desperate.
If beauty is in the eye of the beholder then I am challenged to expose my eyes to the truly beautiful treasures of the world which pass me by so easily no fault of their own. I want to expose my eyes to helping those in need, to the lost, the broken and the abandoned. Whether right or wrong, Liberty Street made herself a home for the people who needed a reminder that freedom, hope and a new life is very real and can be experienced. I want to do the same.