Weighty and Wonderful

There are days when the air enters your lungs more easily.

Days when it is not only exhaustion that fills your thoughts.

Days when dreams seems possible and lives, all of them, seem worth living.

These are the days that we take for granted.

The ones when we actually feel okay.

When we are breathing easy and not frustrated by the sheer lack of our own will.

Sometimes life gets to heavy and we feel like a pile of crumbs that someone needs to slide off the side of the table and into the void.

Where our broken bits, separated, seem to evaporate and wholly disappear.

We are at loose ends with all that matters but really doesn’t and all that occupies us without any real meaning.

We rarely live because we are always worried about something else — anything else — that will occupy our minds for the few moments we spend with ourselves, usually in varying degrees of discomfort.

But some days.

Some days.

We feel a lightness that make us feel the actual breeze in our hair and the length of stride and purpose in our hearts.

We wake up full of not hope maybe, but a sense that today’s earth turning was real and worth it.

The days when you are proud of what you have accomplished and what you have yet to accomplish because you hope there is time.

Time to getting around to being who you were meant to be.

If there is ever really the time.

Or the place.

Or the space.

To wiggle yourself out of a narrow version of yourself and live and breathe like you were intended.

You may be small in matters of the universe.

But you are large and weighty and wonderful when it comes to living from the deep dark part of your heart that gets neglected like a “bad” children in a brutal circumstances.

You can live large in ways that have nothing to do with cars or friends or followers.

You can live large and with depth and purpose and meaning.
But only you know what that meaning is.

Only you know the perfect combination that unlocks the closet that opens into the core of your being.

Will you always be afraid the open the door that will allow you to fall out of love with comfort and invite the bitter truths of the unknown?

You may be.

Maybe we all will be.

But I promise that regret tastes more bitter as the years pass by.