I never learned how to balance a spoon on my nose. Maybe I have the wrong spoons, or even that I'm not using the proper spoon to nose techniques. My brain works in this flexible setting all the time. It just appreciates all these little moments that most people don't give a second though too.
As I waited for my coffee to brew (decaf for it is 9:54pm) I simply was holding the spoon out, drumming it against the palm of my hand. Lost in the tranquility of the steam that was embracing the air. It circled from the rich brew and freed itself into the air. Dancing as it found room to stretch.
It only took a second for me to try to balance the spoon to my nose. A quick flash to childhood when I would try like I saw in the movies of course. To my lack of surprise I couldn't perform the spoon trick and I may never get a sense of that. It's a bittersweet feeling, to think back to our lives and all the smallest of moments that end up being the biggest ones.
Growing up I remember driving through Governor Dodge State Park with my family. Sometimes my parents would stop and let us play in the playground. I loved being out there. I lost the appreciate for nature during those dreaded teenage years but have gained back my lust for birds singing, and trees being my shelter. (still haven't mustered an appreciation for sleeping in a tent yet, but hey life is far from over there's still time right?) Just a Thursday night on a summer day and we'd take a ride through the park. Windows down and the cool sweet breeze rushing by and sweetly caressing my cheeks. I can close my eyes and still feel it, and remember those days. Even the thoughts that would consume me.
I've realized that, I've always been a deep thinker. I think too much, too deep. It always branches into this deep and mind blowing trivial train of chaotic thoughts. All day every day. I wonder sometimes, what others are thinking about. Are we thinking about the same thing? How different are we all really? Is there someone out there like me? Why can't I be normal? Why would I even want to be normal? How different am I? What is my purpose? Why am I here? What is life? Is this all some dream and we wake up when we die?
There's so many things that go through my head that its hard to find words to match all of them. I get anxious over my thoughts and they speak to me all the time, even when I'm trying to sleep. Its this record that never stills and the music is always playing. Only words and more words. I figure its a blessing, at least I know that my brain is working right? A working mind means and I'm still alive and that's a good thing.
I often wonder what people consider to be there sanctuary. Where do you feel safe. I'm not speaking in a physically matter, but in a emotionally and mentally aspect. Where do we allow ourselves to feel safe? Writing. That's my sanctuary. Where I can be absolutely free from expectations from myself, and the world. No limits I can create any masterpiece of words I can create worlds and people, I can be completely honest and completely unchained to any aspects contribution to my encasement. So I ask you,because I'm dying to know....what's your sanctuary?
No comments:
Post a Comment