Living Daydream

My intuition, that is….

There’s a song that says, "I can see clearly now, the rain is gone…." 

exactly. the eyes are not only the windows into the soul, they are the watch towers of everything… both good and bad. and sometimes… if you look closely… you can see all of the things… you never saw before…

I received a reminder… that sometimes, in order to live life, you have to cease with the wonder and examination and instead rely on experience…The stuff you’re in right then, right now.

sometimes, a gray sky…. really is just a gray sky. nothing more, nothing less. 

gonna step outta my head for a bit, and outta my own way as well. because although there’s nothing wrong with pondering, there is always a breaking point. its not necessary to reach it. Life is so much more dull on pause, after all.

*pushing play* 

"Don’t let memories of past difficulties influence current expectations. History does not repeat itself unless you let it."

-Leigh Oswald for Harpers Bazaar

really powerful quote.

we’re all so busy thinking about what hand life has dealt us, that sometimes we forget the control we have over our paths.  That quote gives  us… gives ME,

command,

rule,

authority,

and choice.

That’s just what I needed.

Occasionally there are moments when I torture myself. Painfully awkward situations that remind me I have the ability to succumb to pure masochism.

These incidents occur without warning. Its quick, like an explosion, and then suddenly they’re gone, like a thief in the night. Often I find myself trying to recall what happened, and even questioning if I lived it… or dreamed it up in my head like a colorful fairytale with a not-so-happily-ever-after.

It feels much like going down a rabbit hole… Or being swept up in a whirlwind. I feel… out of control, helpless, and vulnerable. and the strangest part, is that in those minutes of lunacy, there’s a sense of liveliness that’s unmatched by any other period lived through.

It’s like being alone on a merry-go-round as a kid. You start off with both feet planted on the ground, jogging while pushing the heavy metal apparatus around as your pace increases. Before long the handle you’re gripping feels more like its pulling you, than you pushing it… which is a clear indication that its time to hop on before it out-twirls you. So you leap onto the plaything and hold on with all your might as you spin faster, and faster and faster! Your surroundings become a blur, and your head gets foggy. You move closer to the center, thinking that will be the safest place, the spot which you’d be least likely to slip and fall from. Eyes closed, knuckles pale from maintaining a grip so tight, you wait as the spinning starts to slow, and eventually stop. And as your stomach begins to settle, you start the process all over again.

I wonder why I do this to myself. Why do I insist on getting on the merry-go-round over and over again? Maybe I figure this time I’ll manage to land a spot a little closer to the center. This time I’ll hold on tighter… Maybe this time I won’t slip and fall. Or maybe I secretly love that everything besides the thoughts in my head, my dreams and daydreams, becomes nothing but a blur, a hazy wash of colors, leaving me to create my own reality… Or fantasy——you choose.

Being on that proverbial twirling piece of equipment drowns out all the stuff I have to take in consideration when I snap back to consciousness. None of your "what-ifs", or "we-cants", or "but-what-abouts", matter up there in my whirlwind. Its peace and pain all wrapped up together so well that I cannot distinguish between the two.

I toss around all of the variables hoping to find the perfect formula for success, the answer… All the while, not realizing that this plaything, was meant to do one thing.

It was meant to twirl.

Slow or fast,

many or just one…

 It spins.

No matter where I get on, no matter how I grip its handles, I will always be spun around unrepentantly.

Its my choice to get on or off. I just wish I knew which held more power, the ability to spin me around in circles… or my own masochism.

Where do I get off?

I sat by a window this afternoon and stared out. Cliché, right? I know… but I did just that. I was supposed to be working. In fact, I have a deadline to meet by tomorrow and another on Friday but my mind is all over the place and the more I tried to pull my thoughts in, the more they ran free.

I watched this one single leaf that lie in the parking lot. There was just that one leaf, and because there are no trees near this particular section of the lot, I begin to wonder how it got there and why just this one, exact leaf.  Now, at this moment, while I’m recalling my thoughts of the day, I realize how silly this must all sound. I mean, after all, who cares about a single leaf, right? I guess with all that’s been on my brain lately, little things become…. captivating. So… I sat, and stared… at this one leaf (we’ll call him….Humphrey) all by it’s lonesome on the pavement. All of a sudden, what I can only imagine must have been a light breeze, lifted  Humphrey up into the air and carried him about 20 feet to the north of where he originally rested. I assumed that would be his new home for at least a few moments, but before I could form that thought in its entirety, he was airborne was again. This time Humphrey floated much further away. I kept my eye on him until he traveled so far that I could no longer make out even his outline.

I wonder where he was going. Even more than that, where did he come from? Had he been a drifter most of his life? Maybe never settling in one place for too long, before eyeing greener pastures and quickly hurrying off to satisfy his curiosity? Maybe Humphrey was a new comer in town. Perhaps he’d just hitched a ride on top of someone’s car and hopped off to take a look at the city. Or… maybe he was on the run from some dreaded incident that happened at his old place and now he was searching for fresh ground to start over. Would he be happy here? Would Humphrey make new friends easily and start going out to local watering holes after work? Maybe he would take up a knitting class and meet someone who would become his best friend and stand as best man in his wedding in the years to come. He was all alone on that little corner of the lot; did Humphrey have a family? Were his mom and dad at home sitting by the fireplace wishing their oldest son well in his travels? Did Humphrey kiss his baby sister good bye after packing his bags and preparing for his trip? I wonder if he was close to his grandma.  Maybe she had given him words of advice before he left home. Grandma might have packed her little Humphrey a meal with home baked cookies and some of her famous cornbread everyone in their neighborhood raved about.  What would be in his future? Would he meet a lovely lady friend and develop a relationship that would eventually turn into a life long romance? Maybe Humphrey would get a dog, and a hamster so that he could teach his children responsibility.

By the time I looked away from the window, I realized that almost 18 minutes had passed. I had sat, staring out of this window and daydreaming about a leaf, which I had somehow manage to personify and name: Humphrey. I had to shake my head at myself and chuckle. I guess my blog’s name was more than just a title, after all.

To anyone else this must appear to be exactly what it states. I, on the other hand, realized long ago that my mind works in a rather different way. When we dream at night, our mind take symbols, images, and emotions of that day, sometimes days past, and juggles them much like a clown in Barnum and Bailey’s. Those of us who care to unlock the meaning behind these circus acts, attempt to put the pieces together and possibly learn the lesson our unconscious begs to teach.

I have somehow developed the ability to do this while wide awake. My mind takes simple scenarios and turns them into stories… but these are ones of reality, not fiction. I know who Humphrey is.  I wonder about his past and what he runs from.  I think about how one’s past affects their present and future. Its amazing to me… I love kids, but my favorites are newborns. I’ve been told how “maternal” I appear when I’m holding these little sleeping babies. I believe there are many reasons why this is so, but one of the biggest is something that most would never figure. I hold babies and look at their little hands, little noses, and I wonder what type of adult they will be. I think about what experiences they will have in their lives and how it will affect the relationships they form. Isn’t it mind blowing that every little thing we do with children has an impact on who they will become as adults? A drifter, a loner, a lover, a friend, a homeowner, a parent, a depressive…. I spend so much time wondering why people are who they are. What did they see and hear in their past? Who hurt or loved them? What would their dreams reveal about their true hopes and desires?

Sometimes, we’re lucky enough to meet those who want to share their stories, let you in on who they have been, are, and will be. Others, find solace in keeping their journeys undisclosed. For the latter, I continue to stare out of the window…. During my work day… wondering where they’re going…

I think the core of me, wishes they’d settle here…. In the safest place on earth.  Surrounded by the warm embers I feel each time I look inside myself. Guess that’s just cliché, though…huh?

I think…. i’m ready to start writing again.

The break was nice, and needed.

Its time to begin again. 2009 feels shiny and new, and i’m ready for the adventures that lie ahead. I look forward to settiling back in here, at home. Let’s go.  

I spent my night first at a party with friends… then came home to finish watching the race…

WE DID IT Y’ALL!!!!

Words cannot express my joy… my JOY!!! My president… is BLACK.. he looks like me… and his wife has HIPS! haha!!! I love it… This day… this race… has forever changed the country… the world, even… and bigger than that… it has changed me. I didn’t think i’d live to see this. I have been so emotional about this race.. and tonight, my tears flowed like a fountain.

called my friends.. called my parents.. then i called my grandma to talk to her and hear the excitement in her voice…

BARACK OBAMA IS MY PRESIDENT.

i’m not sure i’ve ever been more proud. we can do anything. GOD is good… without Him, this could have never been possible. I pray God continues to hold him up, to keep him safe… so we can CHANGE this country for the better.

YES WE DID!