It may seem like an ill-placed intention to go out of my way to relax and find solace in Brooklyn for a mere 24 hours. But when it’s done the right way, with no stressed goals of places to go and people to see, it leaves time wide open and free for wherever that sly north wind blows this unbound soul…
Here’s my advice…
Being single after a serious long-term relationship is like slowly peeling off your winter coat. You’ve pulled it snugly around your frame for months (years, really), hugging it tightly as a daily reminder of protection and security; clutching it vigorously during the worst of storms; shedding it gently in heated homes as you’re greeted with warm tea only to return it to your shoulders a few hours later just as secure and comforted as before.
Then softly, subtly, the scent in the air changes and the weather with it. You slowly roll up your sleeves and unnerved, begin to slink shoulders out into the unforgiving light. Continue reading
to listen to the world.
to see the intricate movements of trees.
to smell spring’s speckled growth.
to feel the sun & the breeze & the earth.
life has a strange way of circling you around where you’re meant to be. taking you through the scenic route, through awkward paths and side roads; hovering around the ultimate destination until finally it’s settles. leaving you with all these lessons, wisdom, & gentle understandings you wouldn’t possess without having taken the scenic route.
Our nature is to learn, grow, expand. To search endlessly for people, experiences, things that help us achieve that growth. Our subconscious natures lead us to these moments of potential growth for the very purpose of peeling back layers, chiseling at the hard marble-like exterior of our identities, erasing the lines we’ve drawn around ourselves, exposing our very centers. From this naked space, we learn, grow, expand.
I let the excess fall away from my form and blank space fill up the pages. I like the opportunity it provides. The freeing notion that despite the lines I make and the curves I etch, gentle gnawings of growth will always return the pages to their natural, naked state.