Sunday, August 11, 2019

Snapshot of a Season | Act 1, Scene 1



We're entering a new season, can you feel it? My sister and I sit on the couch, laughing and crying as we watch an episode of Queer Eye. Happy tears, anxious tears. This week has been a study in emotion, both in expressing it and knowing when to hold it back. It has been the regrowth of sensitivity, of learning to keep my heart open, of tender-hearted prayer with palms up to the sky.

I know I won't always have this. And that's hard.

At the same time, "I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready to move on." Why is it that I must long for a new season, all the while mourning the present one? One day I will wake up in a different town and a different home and my sister won't be on the other side of the wall, playing J. Cole at full volume and strutting about the room in high-waisted denim and yellow espadrilles. One day this will all be different, and it will be good, but I will miss this. I know it, I do. But it doesn't stop me from longing for the future.

The other day, a wedding invitation came in the mail from my cousin.

And then another wedding invitation, from my other cousin. And somehow time is moving, and now it's us, my family, and my friends, who are putting on the rings and having the babies, and I don't know how this happened or who gave us permission to grow up. Change is good, change is good. Life is change, and we move forward. But wow, it's all going by faster than I expected.

A couple of weeks ago,
Daisy and Kaylie and I went to see the Lion King remake.

I sat in a darkened theater and silently wept as Mufasa died, once again. Why did I feel like somehow this time it was going to be different? I don't know why, but I did. Like maybe we could change things. Like maybe he could just hold on a little longer until help arrived. The music to that film just cuts me to the core. It was an odd feeling, connecting with a film that I adored as a child, seeing it again as an adult. In a way, that exactly describes how I've been feeling - as if two parts of me are meeting in the middle, and shaking hands with each other. One part past, one part future, both pulling me in different directions.

So, what even is this post?

This is me processing. It is a sigh of relief, a reclaiming of this space. A tree letting her roots exhale and grow. And you know, I have to say, I'm writing this for me (hence the rambles), but to the people who have stuck around this blog to read even one post or leave a kind word or two: you all are just the sweetest of souls. And I'm grateful that we get to share our thoughts with each other and that you, too, see value in creative spaces and the evolution of those spaces and their authors. I would rather see this space change over time than become sad and stagnant. 

Re: blogging: I think that somewhere along the way, I lost the poetry.

Not that this was ever really a poetry blog. But I miss the outlet these "pages" once were. And I miss having art in my life that is for me. I realized yesterday that I don't write anymore. It took a trip out into the country to realize how much I rely on the Internet and social media to keep myself entertained. I miss those days as a child when I would write by hand with clunky pencils and create stories from nothing. Before my brain was hardwired with this compulsion to constantly "keep up." So I come to this space seeking to reinvent it once more, and to celebrate the fact that it even exists at all.

In less than a month, I will turn 26.

I almost feel as if August is both a prelude of what's to come in my next year, and a season closing, fading out into something new. I don't have exact, concrete thoughts for what the future might hold, but I feel a general sense that inspiration is going to be at the heart of it. Exhibit 1: Last night I felt inspired and revived my old Tumblr. Maybe I'll drop it in a couple of days, or maybe it will become a new space to share my thoughts. Either way, I want expression to be at the heart of my 26th year. Is it weird that I feel like I'm claiming whatever "26" will be for me, now? And taking advantage of the freshness of a new year before it even arrives? Doing it anyway.

To do:

Read more C. S. Lewis. Revive the Twenty Five Project. Write full novels to the albums I've been obsessed with lately (read: music by Bastille, Imagine Dragons). Keep praying with open palms. Keep your door and heart open. Buy flowers. Sing songs.

Til next time, 
E