(Written so many moons ago and saved as a draft. I feel the need to publish now. It was like my soul saying that everything was going to be okay... and it has been... amazing.)
It's cooler today than it was yesterday. It could be because I am no longer on my self imposed hot seat... or maybe because it's officially two weeks into fall.
My horoscope says to breathe deep. I have, many many times. Trying to remember that the minutiae of my daily life is nothing in comparison to the really big picture.
The picture that I really have no blueprint in regards to its composition. But I am an artist and I can dream.
Dreams of my very own little niche in this great big world. Somewhere that I fit in completely, comfortably and productively.
But I learned, although dreams are important to have, using said dreamworld fantasies complicate real life with expectation, at least for me.
My life is real. It has taught me lessons that I hope I don't forget.
Lessons of love. Everyone tries to define it. Can you put into intelligible words what love is? I've asked religious doctrines, dictionaries, philosophers, friends and family with hardly an answer at all.
I had to find it myself. You can't define it because it has no rules. There is no box. And, there is no users manual.
I had a thought today about the last time I had an honest visit with Rube. We sat at the table drinking coffee. She took hers black. She was having one of those days that she frequently had... they happened more and more often the longer time went on... the longing grew like wildfire on a windy day. She couldn't wait to die so she could at least be buried next to my grandfather. She loved us and she loved life. But she loved him that much more. I remember telling her that one day I hope to be as lucky. And she told me I would be.
What I meant was: I want to love so deeply. I didn't mean that I wanted to long so gravely.
I hope my soul finally figured it out.
She told me once, right before I started into kindergarten, that if I like a boy I should drop my pencil near him. If he picks it up I can continue liking him otherwise I'm wasting my time.
What about opening the door or remembering my favorite flower or finding chili cheese fritos for my kid to snack on as soon as he gets out of an ultrasound that required him to starve for more than half the day.
I think my Grandmother would have loved him. She would have had something to say about it though...
I am lost on waves of love and life. In the last five months of my life I have experienced more emotionally than I have in the past fifteen years. I owe it to letting go and not caring about what others think.
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