"Turning toward a large wave in the ocean is the best defense. Diving into the huge wave can save you." --Sark
"I'm no longer afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my own ship." --Louisa May Alcott
I've been searching for little moments of clarity in my life. Any ray of sunlight cracking through the blinds, a spot of green thrusting through the pavement, the tiniest stream of water trickling. All of these suffice. I welcome them with congratulatory arms and a wide smile, an inner patting-myself-on-the-back. Acknowledging moments of clarity is like praising a child for something seemingly small and arbitrary, like peeing on the toilet. Except they're not.
I realized that I wanted growing things surrounding me in my bedroom. I bought houseplants and pretty pots.
I realized that I wanted to pick raspberries from the bushes in the backyard. I brought a bowl and a book with me and lounged in a lawn chair afterwards.
I wanted clean sheets. I changed them, washed them, and put them back on.
I wanted green tea. I ordered it.
I felt drawn to read Rumi, to soak up his every word. I purchased The Essential Rumi, on Amazon, used.
These little cracks of sunlight and buds of green and droplets of water are not just that. For soon the blinds will be thrown open and the plants will overtake the streets and the floodgates will break. These moments of clarity will let in a million moments of clarity, and my layers and layers of clothing will be pulled by the threads, little by little, until they can be torn off and I'll be able to see my soul, pure and bare.
I just made a pretty sizeable rip. A whole ray of sunlight burst in, for I was able to witness the part of my soul that was whispering to me, yes! yes! you know what you want! And I realized: I don't want to go to grad school. My life right now is not about more schooling and social justice issues and confines and flat-broke-ness. I need to explore myself. My soul needs to breathe. I saw that my soul wasn't coaxing, or coercing, or shouting these things to me, either. It was just talking, plain as day.
Before it was starving, but now I'm offering it these little crumbs, as I listen to its words, and slowly, it's gaining stength. I'm gaining strength.
I'm pulling up my blinds, very slowly.