I love how hard things can be at times. When we are blinded by our own bubble of importance, when we fail to acknowledge the beautiful and fragile earth and its surroundings and the natural sounds and sights that can fill our very souls on a daily basis. Those signs are somewhere around, whether we live in cities and villages, deserts or jungles.
I could fit all the world's problems in my pocket and imagine them away. Most of them were but solitary and imagined thoughts, growing because we knew not how to control things. We failed every day, we failed so fashionably it would never be given up.
I neared school this morning and suddenly I was lifted. An excited child who I would co-teach later lit up upon seeing me and showed his excitement and then I heard a chorus of children shouting excitedly and suddenly the world was perfect again. I knew some of those voices belonged to children with poor home lives, ones who had to see and experience things I wouldn't wish on anyone, especially not for young people, but the sound was enough to satisfy all the darkness of the world into submission, at least for a moment. I couldn't help being eternally filled with the excitement of a child. I assess that now I know what I like in life, in my life, I am far more excited, far more of the time, than when I was actually a child. I can do what I want really, can take myself to the places I craved, can see the world and meet people who have been waiting for our paths to cross, both them and myself unaware of this, and I can allow myself total freedom in my quest. Moments break the peace and the joy and of course life is never easy, there are too many factors that it consists of for it to truly be a walk in the park, but it almost is what we make of it. It more or less is.
A thought to those who are dying and even my seemingly invincible grandmother, for God and the doctors and what has felt like everyone on earth and Heaven, even conspiring together, have not been successful in wrenching her spirit from its earthly body. I love that woman, let it be known. No more. Nothing more. The rest remains in the spaces between words, and letters, and the eternal endless space.
I knew everything I wanted to say was on the tip of my tongue, on the edge of my fingers, but sometimes being sat here it doesn't quite come, the flow restrains itself. I do know that at some moment it will all pour out, like the water on the banks of a river, overflowing after severe rainfall. I can wait. I can patiently wait. I can even love having to wait for now.
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