“In the end, these things matter most: How well did you love? How fully did you live? How deeply did you let go?” – Buddha
It has been a hectic two weeks for me, hence my absence. I was fortunate enough this evening to get a moment of solitude in the park near my house. I was able to completely empty my mind, and write freely. I have never shared my writing here, but here goes nothing!!
A gentle warm breeze fills the air as the sun starts to dim down behind the trees. The lamp posts flicker on and the sounds of gravel brushing off the runners shoes sound the park. The lake is rippling from the breeze, but it still looks completely calm. I am propped up on a bench under a tree which is swaying. I gaze far out beyond the lake to the other side and reminisce. I am brought back to a time which clouds my mind with compelling memories but I quickly forced them out of my head. Lovers stroll holding hands, as lovers tend to do. But I am more interested in the runners, and what has brought them here to this park tonight. Is it the same intentions I have brought with me, in hopes to escape bad memories, or is it the solitude of this summer night? When I close my eyes, I can bring myself to any place, but still I am brought to these same memories again. The harder I pushed them away, the faster they came plummeting in my lap.
My question for you today, which is a self reflection, “how well do you love, how fully do you life, and how deeply do you let go?”
“I write about the power of trying, because I want to be okay with failing. I write about generosity because I battle selfishness. I write about joy because I know sorrow. I write about faith because I almost lost mine, and I know what it is to be broken and in need of redemption. I write about gratitude because I am thankful – for all of it.” – Kristin Armstrong
I began to ponder before I found this quote, why do I write? At first the answer was simple, it is a place where I can freely write anything, without being judged. But then I let the question sit with me, deep in my thoughts, and paused again, and did not find the same answer. I write not only because I can write anything freely, but because I am called to do so. I write in good times and in bad, I write on sunny summer days, and on cloudy winter days. I write because it helps me understand things which don’t make sense, and require rereading to understand. I write to remember all the moments so vividly, and precisely as if I were re-experiencing them again. I write so I can recall my growth and remember my struggles, for it is those moments who made me who I am today. But most importantly, I write in hopes that my story will somehow, someway, help someone feel at ease. Why do you write?
Your writing voice is the deepest possible reflection of who you are. The job of your voice is not to seduce or flatter or make well-shaped sentences. In your voice, your readers should be able to hear the contents of your mind, your heart,your soul.” -Meg Rosoff
Our lives are made up of moments. Moments which we love to recall, and others which we wish never existed. But when we look at these moments as a whole, they make up our existence, they define us, the good, the bad, and even the ugly. The scars we each hold, the band aids that patched them up, and the happy memories which drive us to find more moments like those. Without our scars, we would not know how far we’ve come, and we would not know the necessary lessons we were taught by them. They do end up shaping us into the beautiful beings we are today. With each moment, with each heart beat, embrace all the memories so we can continue to blossom into beautiful butterfly’s. But the best moments of all, our happening right now, before your beautiful eyes. So slow down a little, enjoy the moments that have guided us this far, and thrive on the new moments presented before us.