10:06pm
Living Room Sofa
Parent’s home
Washington
I’m feeling almost sane. First time in some time. I’m writing. It’s a sign of the ability to create, think, explore, solve, heal, live.
When the soul is dry, it is hard for beauty to awaken it. But as I drove today, I witnessed a beauty capable of reviving the life within me. As I drove, Mount Rainier shone, glistened. It did not hide. Not a cloud in sight or mist over the horizon. It was clear. And it spoke clear into my heart. I smiled. A deep smile that spoke, “I am alive. I appreciate beauty. I can learn to love again.” As I trekked up the hill bringing me back home, the shadowed trees stood out most majestically behind the backdrop of light blue blending into orange. I lowered my windows; the clean, crisp wind lifted my hair off my neck and I ingested the forgiving air. Creation does not pick and choose who she will give herself to. We are all invited to partake, all allowed to receive not based on what we have given.
To go before the water lapping against the shore proudly singing our best song and sharing our daily on the job accomplishments hoping the water and sand will believe we are incredible, begging us to return again. . . Or the majestic work of art of the Evergreen tree standing above all the others – unapologetically – unfazed by a violent storm: do we cower, sweat, laugh nervously in its presence, knowing we are nothing in comparison? And the moon in all its glory; do we come with new ideas of how it could shine more proficiently?
Why perform? Why act? Why impress, inspire, invent? We simply are privileged to receive. Privileged to rest, breathe, enjoy. Our song, speech, sanctification – does it increase our privilege to receive the sun or moon, mountains or trees, sunsets or ocean breeze? No. It is simply – a gift. | "Creation does not pick and choose who she will give herself to." |
We are all invited to partake, and we are allowed to receive. Never are we measured and then allotted bushels of wheat or bags of beans. This is a misconstrued idea built on our self-prescribed fear and shame.
I want to be brave. Brave enough to believe again. To believe I am given to not for my abilities to give, but given to because I’ve simply been chosen as a recipient. There’s nothing I can do to receive more beauty except to simply accept it more.
I’m done with impressing. I’m ready to just receive.