There are a few signs.
Signs which let me know I'm in a happy place.
Like I do my thinking in writing. My thoughts aren't muttled by worries or anxieties about what will happen next or of trying to plan the unplannable...they are simply woven together as if I was writing them down with a smooth pen.
Like I keep my jewelry on even after I change into my favorite pair of faded blue sweat pants. I keep it on because it feels right on my wrist.
Like I curl my legs up under me when I sit in this space to do this writing and the only thing I'm taking space up in my brain with is the flowing of the words. Nothing else.
Like being alone in my house is welcome. I turn the lamps on one by one and get music rolling through the air and I choose to be nowhere else than right here. Cherishing this quiet time with myself.
Like the feeling of being the luckiest girl in the world is right on the surface. Driving me. Pushing me to be her. To be the lucky girl who gets to run through the streets of Chicago in the pouring rain to swing open the doors to the museum of all museums.
The lucky girl who gets to then bound up the steps to meet Walter. A man who loves art and just wants someone to listen to him, "If everyone was as nice and happy as you, my job would be fun." Well Walter, keep spreading that art love anyway. You got me. I got you. And that counts for something.
The lucky girl who walks down the hallway and gets in trouble in the hallway for taking a picture of the floor.
The lucky girl who meanders into a room with the most breathtaking works of art and is brought to tears with one glance. One single glance.
The lucky girl who experienced feeling her roots inside that museum. The roots of where she comes from and who she is becoming.
The lucky girl whose eyes drifted over the same works of art as millions of eyes in the past have. Marveling at the enormity of the unending beauty around every corner. Some easily realized as pretty and some needing more time to appreciate.
The lucky girl who feels at home in a new city. Who feels like she is doing the best life living in those situations of meeting strangers and finding her way and experiencing new and not slowing down for a second because there is soaking of it all that needs to be happening.
The lucky girl who shares a perfect moment with a stranger on the street without even knowing she is. I guess if you are putting out the happy, others follow. His presence was unbeknown to me and yet, we are both doing the exact same thing. Both doing some life loving and life living.
The signs. They are all around and I am that lucky girl.
Like being alone in my house is welcome. I turn the lamps on one by one and get music rolling through the air and I choose to be nowhere else than right here. Cherishing this quiet time with myself.
Like the feeling of being the luckiest girl in the world is right on the surface. Driving me. Pushing me to be her. To be the lucky girl who gets to run through the streets of Chicago in the pouring rain to swing open the doors to the museum of all museums.
The lucky girl who gets to then bound up the steps to meet Walter. A man who loves art and just wants someone to listen to him, "If everyone was as nice and happy as you, my job would be fun." Well Walter, keep spreading that art love anyway. You got me. I got you. And that counts for something.
The lucky girl who walks down the hallway and gets in trouble in the hallway for taking a picture of the floor.
The lucky girl who meanders into a room with the most breathtaking works of art and is brought to tears with one glance. One single glance.
The lucky girl who experienced feeling her roots inside that museum. The roots of where she comes from and who she is becoming.
The lucky girl whose eyes drifted over the same works of art as millions of eyes in the past have. Marveling at the enormity of the unending beauty around every corner. Some easily realized as pretty and some needing more time to appreciate.
The lucky girl who feels at home in a new city. Who feels like she is doing the best life living in those situations of meeting strangers and finding her way and experiencing new and not slowing down for a second because there is soaking of it all that needs to be happening.
The lucky girl who shares a perfect moment with a stranger on the street without even knowing she is. I guess if you are putting out the happy, others follow. His presence was unbeknown to me and yet, we are both doing the exact same thing. Both doing some life loving and life living.
The signs. They are all around and I am that lucky girl.
1 comment:
Mona and I just spent Memorial Weekend in Chicago. Had a blast too. So much to see and do. I'd love to meet you and other ND family in Chicago anytime. Sandy
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