14 September 2010


"Cause all religion ever made of me was a sinner with a stone tied to my feet. It never set me free, it's gotta be - more like falling in love."

One Two Three Eight Four Two Six Nine Twelve One One One One.
Find the pattern, Malia.
This is your heart beat with only one variable.
So, what is it?

I woke up this morning to the sound of music floating under my youngest brothers door, which isn't unusual. He often falls asleep with music on and he listens to music incessently, but I recognized it immediately. And that was unusual. I almost cried when I heard it, The Book of Eli. Never before in my life have I been so full for a soundtrack. I gave him the movie yesterday, told him I thought he'd like it. I can only hope it means something. My brothers mean the world to me, they save me time and time again without even knowing it. If I can give them even half of what they've given me, I will be blessed. Blessed.

Being back is hard, but not at all in the way I thought. I thought I would be fighting darkness, dealing with the gray overhang and battling who I used to be. Wrong. I have no fear of the darkness now, the gray overhang makes me laugh because it gives me the lush green below, and who I used to be has long since turned to dust only occasionally bothering the eyes. My issue now is mainly that I lost my right to be here. This place is beautiful and I love the people in it, but I am finding it is no longer a place I belong. I used to collapse back to Maple Valley, exhausted from the rest of my life, and take comfort in this place. But I don't anymore. I appreciate it for what it has given me, but I don't belong here anymore. I find it easier to have two hour conversations with strangers on modes of transportation than with these people I grew up with. I find I am very often angry at the "sense of humor" people have and I am frustrated constantly. I want people to be better, I want to be better and this environment makes it impossible. I'm tired of games and cynicism. I'm tired of derrogatory sarcasm. Being back is exhausting.

"Oh your love is a symphony. All around me, let it fill me. Oh your love is a melody." I close my eyes and I'm back there. I'm in Glacier National Park. Downtown Chicago. Niagra Falls. Upstate New York. Vermont. Montreal. Firenze. Tirrenia. Barcelona. San Miniato. Barcelona. Tunisia. Roma. Rhode Island. Boston. New York City. DC. Cusco. Arequipa. Lake Titicaca. Mancora. Lima. Ecuador. Riverside. Santa Monica. Hollywood. Hwy 101. San Francisco. Hayworth. San Jose. Redwood National Forest. Ashland. I close my eyes and I am standing under waterfalls, hiking mountains, drinking matte, salsa dancing, puddle jumping, riding motorcycles. I close my eyes and I am at peace where I belong. I can't pin it on a map of the world, but I can pin it on a map of the heart.

I jumped on my bed this morning. Just to do it. I read my Bible. Because I'm lucky enough to be able to read it. I listened to klove. To hear my heart in melody. Conviction is a hard thing. We understand what is right and what is wrong, sometimes I wish we didn't. We could just go waltzing around naked and unknowing. Picking fruit from lucious trees and walking on a carpet of green. I live there in Eden in my mind, but living only in your mind is a dangerous thing. You can lose sight of your conviction which is even more dangerous. Without conviction, the knowledge between good and evil is worthless. You have to be convicted to fight for a side. Whether that is by giving the homeless guy on the corner a sandwich or going to live in subsahara Africa to teach people how to dig wells, is really a personal matter. But you need that conviction, because you need a side. To be in a "grey area" is to just never have conviction, it is to never decide what is right. You have to decide.

One Two Three Eight Four Two Six Nine Twelve One One One One.
Have you found the pattern?
This is my heartbeat with only one variable.
What is it?

No comments:

Post a Comment