In an idle moment when I’m at work but so far removed from work I’m back there, that place where my mind is at most ease and can run away freely chasing after memories made only just a few hours ago, that’s where for that glimpse in time, I’m happy.
And there in that moment I can celebrate, love, dance and find calm. But the torment of not being back there brings me back to reality when I find myself in only a moment of a memory but happy that I know it exists.
The circumstances in life that I went through to bring me to this place where those memories are made, I can somehow find thanks for them and move from them and remember that those other memories, the difficult ones where I had to learn the hard way all somehow work together to bring me to this moment, the one where I delight in my present.
Regret is a difficult emotion to deal with; it’s a very powerful noun but lives itself out as a verb. Decisions, feelings, thoughts and actions can all be determined due to regrets that we carry around without even knowing it.
Hard times, as trying as they are, help us appreciate what is in front of us now. I remember when I was 18 and asked God to do something beautiful in my life, it was only a few years later when I read through my old journal and came across those ignorant and carless words which were scribbled down somewhere in the early hours of the morning, that for me to of seen the ‘beautiful’ I was looking for, I had to recognise the ugly.
I took a personality test at work a year ago, without knowing me it described me better than some of my closest friends would be able to. It explained to me that I love being surrounded by people and think of them before myself because when I’m on my own I become my worst critic – so I position myself around people who bring me life and help me process the reality of my situation.
It takes strength and courage to recognise and realise and rectify the ‘ugly’ in our lives but how beautiful and how gracious and how loving it is to do – not only for ourselves but for the people in our lives who help us to appreciate our ‘now’ the people who we make those memories with who make moments blissful.
Acknowledge the hardships then send them on their way, wave them goodbye and walk into whatever lies ahead of you now. And I hope you too can sit at work or wherever but not really be there but be in the memories which you made only a few hours ago with the people in life who mean the most to you and make you thankful.
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.
Chalk and cheese?
I guess you could call it that. He was smarter than me, I was louder. He was the thinker and the analyst where I was the impulsive actress.
Carelessly and selfishly I would stroll into his bedroom and ask if we could get the Lego and play. Patiently he humoured me and fantasised about a plastic square town which we built together.
He went to college and I went to school, both of us too dignified and admittedly insecure to acknowledge the multicoloured plastic days would whisk us away and capture our imagination.
But how I missed it.
How I missed developing and creating something which my brother and I would admire.
A common interest?
I guess you could say that.
He was dynamic and I was sporadic. He would analyse the moment and I would capture it there and then.
Photography healed the days where my brother and I grew apart. Instead of creating and developing a plastic world, we now capture a very real ever changing world through our digital SLR cameras.
I never solely or wholly believed that one day we would have that delicate bond back but, best friends?
I guess you could call it that.