“Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.”
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.”
-emily dickinson
Kurt Vonnegut once said, "I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim, or murmur, or think at some point, 'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.'" I thought of this quote not long ago during one such moment, and I did just that- it wasn't an emphatic exclamation, but a contented vocalization: "I'm happy." And that was the first time I can ever recall recognizing happiness at it's exactness.
Sometimes life can be debilitatingly hard. There are moments, days, weeks, maybe even months where one just wants to be rescued; rescued from themselves and the ties they have bound themselves with. Those times, though desperate, are necessary because they make the simple and quiet moments when life is effortless and quietly wonderful so much more poignant.
I have been away from this little space for so long. And I've missed it desperately. And I feel as though I've neglected something that is trying to blossom, but has been deprived of it's sunlight. Among things I consider sacred to my soul, writing is one of them. Short of music, and prayer, it is the thing that guides me closer to wherever and whoever it is I am supposed to be. So...
Dear Me, Please accept this humble apology for neglecting that thing in which you find so much purpose, enrichment, enlightenment, and serenity. Love, Me. {Apology accepted.}
Dear Me, Please accept this humble apology for neglecting that thing in which you find so much purpose, enrichment, enlightenment, and serenity. Love, Me. {Apology accepted.}
In the midst of being appreciative of those quiet, happy moments, here are some simplicities that because of which, I can truly say,
"I'm smilin' in my blood." :
"I'm smilin' in my blood." :
{spring has sprung}
Here's why I love spring: not only does it awaken things long since lost
under the abysmal bleakness of winter, but it emanates in it's very
essence the promise of that beauteous season which follows it, my
beloved summer. It is the most hopeful of all the seasons.
{new sister!}
Little Brother #1 (also referred to as Heartstring #1) got hitched last weekend! He and his new little lady had their very first dance to {my} Elvis' "Can't Help Falling in Love". So happy I now have even one more reason to love that song. I wish them all the happiness that life has to offer. From the bottom of my heart I do.
{grapefruit}
Aka manna from Heaven. Lately, these citrus-y delights have been twitterpating my tastebuds like nobody's business. I'm so enamored.
{chanin}
{chanin}
Due to all the nuptials as of late (my little cousin Biffers got married too!), I've been able to spend hours upon hours with the woman whose every move I wish to emulate when I'm a grown up. My Aunt Chatzie is just the best kind of woman one could ever dream up. She's lovely (with or without Bare Minerals), she has simple and sophisticated taste, she's funny, she's practical, she's loving, her house is always clean and her food is always delish. Yes, if I am a quarter the woman she is someday, I will feel quite satisfactory. I love her just oh-so-much.
{hope}
One of my most favorite childhood poems ever is the one by Shel Silverstein which goes a little something like this:
"Listen to the Mustn'ts Child,
Listen to the Don'ts.
Listen to the Shouldn'ts, the Impossibles, the Won'ts.
Listen to the Never Haves,
Then listen close to me:
Anything can happen, Child. Anything can be."
I think that one of life's most forsaken amenities is hope. And even I, the most idealistic and hopeful of creatures, have at times abandoned it. But lately, it's been my constant companion. And I'll tell you what: my days are brighter and my nights dreamier. It's a tragic guarantee that life is going to disappoint us, at times. But, as my beloved Eponine so implored with her last dying breath: "Rain will make the flowers grow."
Peace and Love.
Image source: http://marinasalumeart.blogspot.com/2010_08_01_archive.html