eyes

sometimes I can recall.

leaving home

I never wrote about it on here, but I am extremely grateful that the escrow fell through last summer. We would have moved by September. Granted, it would have been somewhere only five minutes away or so. But still. In spite of the fact that everyone else wants to move (and for good reason in terms of family dynamics and togetherness), I secretly was kind of relieved. I love walking on the bluff path at night going home after work surrounded by the completely lit up streets behind us. I love running along the trail during the day. I love going to the end of the street with Bosco to watch the sunset. And my room. I've written before how it's a a safe-haven of sorts. I will miss it most out of any other part of this house. This room and the views of the city and sky when outdoors. I can't really explain it.

All the houses we're looking at are not in Los Angeles.

I'm looking forward to change. A fresh start. But it's sort of a crazy thing to think about.

The Earth Is Not A Cold Dead Place

So I'm currently sitting in bed, listening to my favorite Explosions in the Sky album. The music is streaming through my right ear as I'm wearing only one earbud in order to absorb the sound of raindrops outside the window to my left. There are no words to describe the perfection of these combined sounds. Bosco is curled up next to me. And snoring. Gah, this is such a wonderful moment. In fact, there was something significant about today as a whole.

The second I sat down in the first bus this morning at 8:30am, I began to feel an overwhelming emotion I haven't felt in years. And that is one of immense love for everyone surrounding me. Complete and total strangers. Everywhere I looked I noticed so much beauty...so many differences. So many stories. So many thoughts. I could see everyone thinking (or exhausted, perhaps trying not to think as they sighed in preparation for a long day). I don't know. All I know is this awareness took place throughout the day on all four buses. And walking across intersections. I could feel that strange sensation I used to, literally around my chest. I believe I wrote about this years ago...let me go find the entry.

Okay. So a part of the entry from 12/12/10 reads, "after a minute or so I made it to the end of the sidewalk. while waiting for the stoplight to change so I could cross the street, I took the first, precious sip of my eggnog latte. I instantly felt the familiar spark of warmth that starts in the chest and then spreads throughout the entire body. it was right at that moment that it occurred to me how that feeling of comfort is not too different from the ever-present joy that has lately been pervading my heart, my being. in fact, they are almost identical."

I'm not sure how to explain it, but it's quite powerful and comforting at the same time? It's like a physical response to the emotion I am holding. It seems both a natural and necessary reaction. I don't know how to word any of this properly. There is so much to say. All I can write I guess is that it's significant. I'm grateful to start feeling the love I hold for mankind as I once did in the past. My compassion and understanding didn't leave back in 2011. I was still conscious of my beliefs and have maintained my thoughts...but what was sad is I no longer felt the emotions to match any of them. So in a sense, it was almost hard to believe what I knew was true. I mean, I never didn't believe it. It was just awful feeling numb. I missed the emotion...and after three years, I kind of stopped missing it. And today I realize how much I'd forgotten.

This response is not just toward people I interact with or am surrounded by. Everything around me. Everything I see. Nature. Flowers...lizards running along the bluff path...clouds...the sky especially. I feel more and more connected to everything each day. It's a gradual process, but I am so grateful that it is taking place. I needn't allow the intensity of this world's pain overwhelm me.

I have learned that it is okay to understand, but the depth of empathy should never overpower my own centeredness. I am blessed to be given the opportunity to feel the love I hold for this universe in a healthy, balanced manner.

We all are.

memory

yesterday a random image entered my head when i was sitting in class, completely disconnected from the lecture (as is often the case).

i saw a pair of cotton strings--each about three feet or so--running parallel, about eleven feet in the air and glued strongly to opposing ends of dark blue walls. however, the thin strings were so close together that from a distance--depending on one's perspective--it could appear to be a single thread. but out of nowhere (about two seconds later), the glue of one string instantly became less sturdy on both walls and landed to the ground on its own.

the strings clearly no longer ran parallel. in fact, the distance in height was so great between them that they were no longer together in my line of vision. all i could see was the thread whose glue for some reason decided to remain sturdy and thus keep the string alone in the air.

my mind constantly wanders in class. whether i am journaling or attempting to pay attention, it's a constant battle to stay focused solely on the topics in front of me. however, nothing this random has ever entered my head; so, as i sat there, i tried to interpret it as i would a strange dream. 

i decided it was a bizarre, complicated metaphor for my life.

the mirror

Sometimes
when I cry--

and only if
I'm home alone,

I lie forward
on the carpet

and stare through
the glass.

I look into
my own eyes

and speak aloud
words of encouragement.

I somehow say
what I need to hear.

And though the words
are said by me,

I feel that they're
from somewhere else--

be it a guide
or higher self.

(you grow from the inside)

I guess it's a good thing today was a Sigur Rós kind of morning already.

On another note, half a thousand dollars later, I can type on my own personal keyboard again. I'm thankful for that. I wouldn't have made this blog post right now otherwise as typing here is comforting compared to using the touch screen. Sounds weird, but yeah. It's kind of like...the way I'm able to get out my thoughts and let it flow. And the only reason I was on the computer in the first place is because I was trying to fix the program on here in order to retrieve all my organized albums.

Brennan and I have been bonding a lot more lately, which has been really nice. It kind of scares me sometimes that she'll soon be the age I was when she was born. That's another one of those things that will really get to me if I'm not careful. I mean, it's not literally scary. It's just...bah. There are a lot of words I could say, but I don't feel like processing all my thoughts at the moment and "bah" pretty much encapsulates everything.

Work has been pretty good. I've gotten some more hours the past two weeks when they need me because others can't make it. I love going there because it helps get me out of my head and work on my confidence level. I really need to not put myself down.

Okay, I'm feeling a bit better.

"I wonder if I'm allowed, just ever to be." 

I'm still grateful.
Because I am.

madness

never had I been and not,
never have I been without.