and honestly, it's lasted for longer than a night or two.
i think i'm just in a weird spot in life.
sometimes i just feel sad about certain things.
but these things are hard to put my finger on, hard to fix.
and so, hard to feel.
but when i do feel it, it's a specific and peculiar sort of Sad.
so then it's the battle of letting myself feel (somewhat irrationally, which annoys my logic) or becoming numb.
usually vacillating between the two.
enough of that vulnerability for now.
today is september 11.
i got up at 5:20 to go running with a friend.
who knew that hour still even existed?!
anyway. it does.
that, with its accompanying happy little circumstances, started my day off well.
slowly, my body started to rebel and my latent knee injury awoke and reared it's angry, groggy head. and then my head felt like it was a good day to get a migraine, probably because it's most wonderfully inconvenient when i have a pretty intense deadline (which i miraculously hit today).
this isn't supposed to be a log of my daily events.
point is, i ended up more subdued than i was this morning.
still in a good mood, just physically not feeling great.
now i'm just sitting here (i cancelled my plans tonight due to said migraine),
and i decided i'd like a new cover photo for facebook.
i started looking through my italy pictures...
then through my mexico pictures.
with a spotify playlist on shuffle,
music gently filled my head as i perused.
it had been a while since i've looked through either of these sets of photos.
and slowly, i started to feel the Sad creep in.
it's not necessarily a depressed sort of sad.
it's just a sad sort of Sad.
it could definitely lead to the depressed sort of ad, but innately, it's just its own Sad.
september 11 was and is incredibly important to me.
but i also realized that sometimes we only intentionally take time to remember the more obvious events in history, and we usually wait for holidays to remind us.
looking through these photos, it just hit me that it's necessary, sometimes vital--to reflect and remember the really September Elevens of our personal lives. and also to remember our own Independence Days. our deepest heartbreaks and our greatest victories, because they're part of the same experience.
it's easier to remember the good things, but sometimes we don't intentionally reflect on them. i think maybe i should, more. and then also the times that have been really hard. and by hard, i mean Hard. it's really important to understand where our growth has come from, and also where our calluses and scars lay, so we're at least aware of them and can start to help them heal if they/we need to.
last night i went to a meditation class and our teacher just had us sit there for 30 minutes, just breathing in silence, observing our thoughts at a distance. we really had to just sit and face ourselves. it was...hard.
as we remember our personal gethsemenes and our greatest victories, we more fully realize who we are and where we came from. and hopefully that can steer us into where we're going. the past is a part of us and always will be, though it doesn't have to define the future.
i'm not trying to say live in the past, but out of respect for what these experiences have done for us and how they've shaped us -- those lessons we must #neverforget.
it took me an extra long time to get ready this morning.
see, fridays are a little different for my schedule.
and on this particular day, i am going to go to work, work on things, work on freelance things, head to my mentorship, and maybe do a really great art project (film/photography) tonight in a really cool location.
so naturally, my mind is already skipping over the first four things and it's in that art project;
it's at that location.
which is completely dissonant with the sunny day that seems to be unfolding outside.
the location, the thoughts, the concept, the look and feel--are all more pensive.
not depressed, but contemplative.
and because of that, nothing fit today as i was hurriedly putting on an outfit.
not because my clothes didn't physically fit.
but nothing fit how i was feeling.
and my hair, too.
i couldn't really do it in a way that reflected how i want it to be.
i don't really know how i want it to be.
and then i was like,
i'm turning into THAT kind of artist.
but at the same time,
i knew i'm not that incredibly finicky,
so i tried to get to the root of it.
i had a good phone conversation with my sister last night.
one of those heart-to-hearts,
a cleansing, tearful, grateful conversation.
i think it opened a lot of things up in me.
possibilities that i had shut out were open again
and fears i had held up in front of me were torn down.
so this morning, i just really couldn't get over my outfit dilemma for a solid few minutes:
why didn't anything feel right today?
why didn't any of the clothes i wear...make sense?
then i had a subtle uncomfortable realization:
perhaps i don't feel comfortable in my own skin.
a little bit.
and no outfit in my closet will fix that.
so i just realized that i'm really antsy with some aspects of my life.
i feel like the winds of change are coming.
or they want to come, but are sort of suspended on their course, in mid-air,
waiting for me to beckon them in.
so if they aren't coming,
perhaps i'll blow my own wind and make them come.
preoccupied, i drove home tonight.
it had been a good night, but left alone with my thoughts,
my mind reverted back into troubling situations and unanswered questions.
my window was down and my left arm was characteristically hanging out the window;
a favorite local band was humming through my speakers.
i was on auto-pilot; i hardly noticed as i maneuvered the stoplights on the near-empty streets.
about halfway home, i noticed the breeze.
it was creeping over my left forearm, soft and warm as it danced across my arm into the car.
and then in noticed the song playing from the cd.
i loved this song.
then i realized that i wasn't fully appreciating the amazingly warm air this night had to offer:
it had tried, but i had pushed it aside. i specifically noticed it now, and it felt amazing.
i even opened the sunroof and let more in.
gosh, i love feeling warm summer nights.
that's when i realized: these are all things i enjoy.
things i really enjoy.
night driving. summer nights. warm breeze. this song. singing.
...singing. i wasn't doing that, but i could.
i turned up the music and i remedied that.
and i sang loudly. from my soul, it seemed.
and i wondered how many perfect moments like that slip by without me noticing.
so i passed my street and took a long way home.
almost to apologize to a few of those moments,
and perhaps to make something up to them in some small way in promising to notice more of them.
it's been so long since i've written consistently here.
i want to reclaim it.
i feel like i've scattered my thoughts across the minds of others recently.
i'm guessing you could bet: i'm a very open person.
but in some ways it's terrifying.
i still need this space,
to gather my thoughts like cards--
scoop them all up and deal them out
just to see what hand i have.
(which is funny because i rarely play card games)
but it's true because when you're dealt cards, you know you have cards. you see them physically in your hands. they're tangible. but only when you really turn your cards over do you see what's revealed.
thoughts can be thick and at times almost palpable.
and recently i've had a good amount of them.
but instead of writing,
i've dealt them to others.
and not just one person
and actually, not just a few trusted best friends.
recently, i've been talking with new friends as well.
new people i've let into my life,
and given some of my most favorite thoughts,
i hope they hold them close.
i guess that's another aspect of vulnerability i'm discovering.
in vulnerability you open up, yes.
but being vulnerable here on my blog, at least i can sign my name to it.
i can go back and reference anything i've written or released.
i can even delete if i want to
(which i don't think i've really ever done, but it's a safety blanket knowing i can).
in conversations, i can't.
in conversations, it's out in the open air, never to be reclaimed
unless i later intentionally reclaim it.
but then again, i don't even remember all that i've released to someone else's ears...
it's a tricky thing, connecting with people.
but then again, that's the whole point.
so i guess i'm okay, having spoken
and not written
for so long.