Oh nostalgia. You hit me like a 10 foot wave anytime I listen to “Running” from Jason Mraz’s “Live at Java Joe’s” there I am squeezed inside of my Grandpa’s big smooth riding royal blue Chevy truck between my Mom and Dad on that overcast day driving over Steven’s pass on our way to the future, the unknown, to my life as I would come to know - College. Blasting the CD on repeat powering me past all the knots in my stomach and drowning out the loud fears of my mind, to the dorm room in Eden’s South where I would hang that poster of South America years before Peace Corps would send me an invitation to live in Ecuador, that I would struggle and thrive in. Years before I would find peace and passion in birth work. And miles far from the personal truths that would take me to Malawi where I would be faced by the ugly side of my selfish and irrational tendencies.
Nostalgia, you bring me back to a place that seems so distant, I place I can sometimes feel so real and others like it didn’t happened. As almost it was a story that someone read to me once. The grey that surrounds it entices me and tugs my heart.
Here I am on a Sunday morning, the African sun is heating up my house and my thoughts are brought back to the grey of my life, the ambiguity of now. The peace I have found and the longing I feel for that energy from a crisp Bellingham morning with a white washed room in front of me and all the possibilities of the world.
Life is beautiful and full.
I hope your life brings in these waves, to feel it.
Feel it all.
No comments:
Post a Comment