Monday, May 21, 2012

Today Will Do




Today is kind of perfect. The sky is gray, warm cinnamon rolls sit on the kitchen island, there's a new iPad askew on a couch cushion. . . and I'm sitting down to write. Yesterday I was sad, a feeling I often like to chase away with a cupboard raid, but I sat with it. . . sat in it and remembered a quote from Joseph Gordon Levitt, "I think there is something beautiful in reveling in sadness. The proof is how beautiful sad songs can be. So don't think being sad is to be avoided. It's apathy and boredom you want to avoid. But feeling anything is good, I think." Why was I sad? In part, it was because I had been to a reunion of a remarkable retreat we went on a year ago and I was comparing myself to others. How content the others in the circle seemed to be, aglow with feeling at peace.

And isn't that what we all want? To be able to find peace. It's become a quest for me, slowly unfolding. Embarking on a journey toward spirituality; toward a center, a tether for my balloon. I have no idea what I'm doing, nor where it will be found, or if it will be found. . . this centering I seek. Something tells me it involves yoga, everything tells me it involves writing. I was texting with my sister-in-law yesterday, telling her how profoundly disconnected I can feel from myself and from those around me. So, she spoke of running. . . of that being her peace, when she feels her best, connected and serene. She thought my zen might lie in words, and it very well may.

I feel so compartmentalized right now, with work, school, internship, preparing for a big exam. . . a friend of mine wondered aloud, "Is it possible that there isn't an opening right now for the light to get in?" Entirely possible. But I am intent on unclogging the space between my head and my heart.

I am trying not to want what you have, and trying instead to find my own, but it's difficult. . . to be content with this milieu. Something tells me, though, that contentment is exactly the first step. What I do want from you is participation, because I sense you have a lot to share. . . about your own spiritual journey. My mom said the early 30's are a tough time, wrought with identity crises. It was for her and it's shaping up similarly for me. More than anything though, I'm excited. To learn, absorb and engage in exciting new ways of thinking. Excited to find the perfect in every day.