Inside

Walking the Journey

2009-11-18T19:36:56Z

Swagger. Stride. Stroll. Flick the hips, kick up the feet, snap the knees. The leisurely pace, the walk on a mission, the soft steps of trepidation.

It’s fascinating to watch people walk. To each their own stride, speed, and grace. Some simply seem to float, like a graceful waft of cloud moving across the earth. Some walk with a purpose, each step sudden and constant with a destination in their soles. Some simply stroll with confidence, going somewhere but with a nonchalance that allows them to change direction easily. Some move with a distinct, wavering awkwardness, like their legs grew just a little too long for them. But some pace with overconfidence, a swagger of cockiness like the world simply lies at their feet to be walked over.

Some look down, lost in their thoughts or too shy to face the world. Some stare into the distance, drinking in the world with thirsty, curious eyes. And some send their gaze straight ahead, watching out for their destination or daring to gaze into the souls of all who pass by.

How we move speaks volumes. Even with the sun in my eyes, I can match a type of walk to a friend without recognizing them from anything else. The first time I began to understand the differences among our walks was when I was 14. Like a word that you say over and over, my own walk suddenly seemed unfamiliar to me. I had to focus with each step. Would I move with confidence or trepidation? Would it be a jerk of the knee and foot, or one sudden sweep across the ground? Can we truly define our own walk, change it with whimsy, or is it constant and unconscious? Unfortunately, it’s not so simple to study our own stride.

What does our walk say about how we move through life?

Would You Think it Odd?

2008-01-30T04:13:30Z

Would you think it odd if Hafiz said,

"I am in love with every church
And mosque
And temple
And any kind of shrine

Because I know it is there
That people say the different names
Of the One God."

Would you tell your friends
I was a bit strange if I admitted

I am indeed in love with every mind
And heart and body.

O I am sincerely
Plumb crazy
About your every thought and yearning
And limb

Because, my dear,
I know
That it is through these

That you search for Him.

-Hafiz

I woke up this morning

2007-09-15T17:38:54Z

and a smile was on my face. And it won't go away. And I am so happy for no reason at all.

crayonwild @ 2007-05-28T22:30:00

2007-05-29T05:34:46Z

Can flaws ever be erased completely? Or will there always be that black smudge, a reminder of past screw-ups, left behind?

Because if they cannot be erased fully, I suppose I must accept that tempermental, selfish, stubborn, and cold bitch side of myself as truly a piece of me, something that no matter how hard I try to remove the stain, will always be there.

But if it can be erased completely, than it is only my own selfishness and uncaring attitude that prevents it from happening.

The second option frightens me most.

Mother

2007-04-11T00:44:50Z

Valentine's Day, 2007

It's college. I'm living in a dorm with a roommate I just can't stand occasionally, and other times I'm scared of that feeling that she may just hate me sometimes. It's a lonely world living with someone you don't know, with no arms to hold you at the worst of those times. Teachers could care less what your name is, but you've still gotta buckle down and study under all the pressure, the lack of sleep, the constant loneliness.

I receive a package on the day that can either be the loneliest day of the year or make you feel loved the most. I scrape my scissors across the clear tape, open the box, and smile. A pink envelope greets my eyes, resting on its squishable pillow of a floppy teddybear. There's a box of Godiva chocolates beneath it all, dark and rich and waiting for me to enjoy. I open up the envelope, pull out the card. Above the photograph of a sweet baby of an angel, the words "Even before I held you in my arms, I held you in my heart" rise up.

I love my mother.

______________________________________________

She has been there since the moment I was born, keeping me cradled safe and warm in her strong arms. I can't say how lucky I am to have her. She protected me from a father who had the tendency to forget I was his daughter under the violent rage induced by alcohol and hatred. She took me away from him before I was even a year old, refusing to put me through the same abuse she had suffered for so many years beneath his hand. She's always been strong, and brave. It was a risk to leave him for an unknown future and live on her own with a daughter to raise. It would've been a greater risk to stay. I wish I could have the same strength.

Sometimes I feel like I'm spoiled to have such a wonderful mother, but she wouldn't let me ruin myself. She has given me all of the freedom I need, and none of it wasted. Just enough to create responsibility in me and yet at the same time let me sprout the wings I need to fly. Through her, I know how to enjoy my life. I know how to step onto my own path in the world and walk it confidently, wherever it may lead me. Sometimes you gotta wander into the unknown before you can find the glorious sunlight we strive to feel.

Instead of growing old, she grows young. She's a woman built for love, for life, for adventure. She's got the curves, the freckles over her face, the glittering brown eyes, the skin colored by sunlight, the wild curly hair as ready to fly as she is. She fits on the back of a motorcycle as easily as she fits at home, holding me in her arms. I know I'm different from her, I can't be like her as much as I adore her for her amazing qualities. But there are different ways of living life to the fullest. She takes it wild, spontaneous, with love and heartbreak together, with struggles and celebration at once. The open trail leading to anywhere in the broad daylight appeals to her, while the lonely highway glazed in the gold of streetlights appeals to me. Without her, I'd be lost in the comforts of home, too content to sit by and let the world fly by. She gave me wings enough to take me where I want, even if my path will be different from hers. She just wants me to live for me, not for someone else.

And God, sometimes I miss her so much. But I am so thankful to you for blessing me with such an amazing mother.

crayonwild @ 2007-04-06T13:57:00

2007-04-06T20:59:33Z

Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken,
Your best friend always sticking up for you even when I know you're wrong,
Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance, five-hour phone conversation,
The best soy latte that you ever had . . . and me.

Tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day
And head back towards the milky way?