no one ever said it was going to make sense, this life. and yet, we try to make it so.
when things get too crazy (and things have gotten very crazy), i turn to nature for comfort, trees for solace, fresh air to move fresh thoughts through my mind.
i find all the beauty i need in a single crab apple hanging low against a backdrop of fall colors. a flower fighting to stay in bloom despite cool days and colder nights. a crow landing on the very tiptop of a newly-bare tree, watching.
this is the world i walk through best, a world where silence means breezes and bird calls, and solitude means surrounded by forest. if i could live in this world all the time, i would. but this is life, and there are other things that must be done, and so, of course, i must walk down streets filled with people, buildings, politics, trash.
i have the heart of a hermit and the mind of a citizen. and in my dream of dreams, the soul of a poet.
i can be silent forever. and then i must speak.
i’ve never been very good at fitting into boxes, or groups, or categories, or round holes. in high school, i never managed to belong to any one of the dozens of cliques that formed my social landscape. i could walk through occasionally, mingle, say hello. but always, in the end, i was the lone tree standing just off to one side, watching. back then, it broke my heart. left me wondering what was wrong with me.
of course, now, i know, and i accept, my introversion. i no longer fight it. i no longer wish to be someone other, though considering the possibilities as stories in my head can be quite entertaining.
i am who i am, and i have reached the age where i can say that without cringing. i am multi-faceted, with many, many flaws and imperfections. i am no diamond in the rough, no emerald, no ruby. my kind of jewels hang from branches and stems. all the magic in my world comes from love and living.
my heart is always on my sleeve, where i can hear each beat, beat, beat.
it is how i know i am alive.