Its amazing what you can miss when you sleep in on a rainy Saturday. Apparently, from what I saw last weekend, there is an abundance of life and thriving activity in the community well before noon on this sleepy day. See, I myself and my fiance are college students so, as soon as we get the chance we sleep in well past breakfast. But, with a mix between interest in checking out the farmers market nearby, and the need to breath in outside air after this horrid and bone chilling winter, I set my alarm for 10 am. Of course when my phone began loudly chiming with an electronic sound that sliced through my sleepy dreams, I walked through the deep haze of Saturday mornings toward the loud, buzzing annoyance. Though the rain tapping on the window created a perfect drumbeat almost chanting for me to get back into the comfort of my bed, I was determined. I slipped on my favorite sweater dress, wrapped my hair up in a head scarf and headed for the strange, outside world known as Saturday mornings. With the soft showers and the calmness of a gray sky I was not expecting to see much activity when I was driving toward the market. But, to my amazement there were people, and they were everywhere. I saw people outside gardening, people landscaping churches and community gardens. I saw a group of men in dark trench coats and hats painting over the artwork left on the side of a robin red building. I saw kids and adults and seniors buying fresh produce and supporting local business. Though the rain fell, I saw hundreds of people bettering my community. I saw people shopping at local markets and raising money for charity. I saw old couples holding hands and people selling homemade honey soap and police officers directing traffic. I saw people walking with destinations and kids asking their parents why its important to buy organic. All on a rainy Saturday morning. I suppose why this was so fascinating and mind blowing was because, as most people do time to time I thought the world revolved around me. If I took part in the late afternoon sleeping on Saturdays, then the rest of the world must as well. If I fell victim to the hypnotic chanting of rain on my window, then everyone else must have too, right? It is amazing what you miss when you sleep in on a rainy Saturday. You see people bettering the community, supporting local businesses, and children learning how to lead a healthy lifestyle. I suggest that, you venture out one Saturday morning and see what your city has in store. The atmosphere just very well may inspire you like it did me. Because, its amazing what you miss when you sleep in on a rainy Saturday.
Death has many effects on people. When we find out that someone we love will no longer be able to answer our phone calls or hug us when we are lonely, our minds, our souls, and our hearts goes into overdrive.
Our mind has us examine everything we have ever been taught. It is in our mind that we replay every single second with our loved one that we can remember. It is with our mind that we picture their faces and their smile and hope that our mind will not ever let these images become faint. It is with our mind that we figure out the arrangements that must be made, the things that goes here and the people who get what. We must somehow work out a way to survive without this person. We must think of ways in which we can continue on without them. We are forced to think of a future world without them and are completely made to reinvent any idea of our lives. Our mind tells us that while nothing will be the same again we will be able to go on. We will find a strategy, we will compute, we will go on.
Our soul feels lost. Our soul searches for an answer late at night through blurry eyes from a higher power. Our soul feels empty, which feels like someone has managed to scoop out the deepest of your insides. Our soul silently prays for a sign, any sign, just to know that their soul has not left ours, and this is a process that will haunt you for the rest of your own life if you do not find an answer. Our souls search within ourselves to see the ways in which our loved one has changed us. The way in which they have inspired us and pushed us and saved us. Our soul looks for this and always seems to find it. Our soul feels our loved one in the warm summer sun, or the way the flowers grew just right this spring or the way a ladybug seems to always be near. Once our soul doesn’t feel empty anymore, once it finds the connections we have made to their soul we are able to feel ok again. Our soul searches for an answer, our soul fills us and gives us hope when our mind tells us they are gone. Our soul knows that they will never truly be.
Our heart takes us on another journey. One filled with questions and longing. Our heart makes us hug our children and little tighter at night and reminds us to pray before we sleep. It makes eggs and toast taste extra delicious and it makes us rethink the fight we had with our significant other. It makes us call up that person that we seemed to push away and it makes us crave forgiveness for our many past mistakes. It makes us cry and show emotion when we normally keep to ourselves. It makes us hug and love much harder than we have in a long time. It is our heart that forces us to realize the uncertainty of time and also the way in which we have decided to fill it. Our heart makes us forgive our friend and give a parent a second chance. Our heart makes us notice the way our lives have ended up and gives us hope to change it. It is with our heart that we see how the person would have wanted us to live. While our mind reprograms and our soul searches, it is our heart that tells us the right way to go. Our heart that takes a death and a loss and uses it to reshape our lives.
There is something miraculously romantic about the way the warm butter creme light flows from my bedside lamp and tucks itself into every page of my book. The way the light smooths the rough edges of the room and the rough edges of my day. The way in shifts back and fourth, until it finds the perfect place to lay, until it covers the carpets, the quilted blankets. the closets and me. There is something so romantic about the way that candle light dances across my skin and the way it uses my bedroom wall to spend the night doing the Charleston like the flappers of history’s past. And the way that the crisp sweetness of apple fills the room and fills the stories. The way it folds you into itself, and makes you feel at home. There is something so romantic about the way that the words flow off my page and place me in the story. The smells, the people, the way the world looks. The way it sends me on a private trip to a place far away. Far away from my butter creme lamp, from the dancing candle, from today.
Who knows exactly where we are headed in life. All I know are these things. All I know is that I want to move people and more importantly move myself. I want to love on a large scale and love myself on a larger one. I want to do things with so much heart that no one can repay me for.I want to travel the entire world and in turn be thankful for everything in mine. I want to be remembered as the girl who was always smiling and the one who never gave up.I want to forgive the people whom don’t ask for it. I want to write until my hands wont allow me to do so anymore and I want to take photographs and videos to remember the wonderful life I have been given when my memory doesn’t cut it. I want to make my family proud and more importantly I want to be proud of myself. I may not know where I am headed exactly, but I sure do know what I’m after.