in my heart there was a child.

sometimes i can't tell if i'm young or old. if i'm wise or foolish. if i am right or wrong.

am i supposed to be less decided? should i let more happen the way it does and want less to change outcomes, even when they are unhealthy? there is a zen buddhist in me, lifetimes away who says yes. i'm just not there yet. i am working on it though, with many failures under my belt. i say that gently because i know that we fail in life and it doesn't mean we'll never succeed. i just have a tough time to put aside some hard feelings to move past certain things. i have a hard time forgiving situations that perpetuate. that much i can see. it makes me go back to the first line of this post.

i want a nice little space that is like a fire crackling away in the fireplace in a room that is warm in thought and in light and heat. i want to find more artistic elements in my days. i want to retain freedom even in the things that steal it. i want to lend my freedom to some beautiful little people who will teach me humility and test how irish i am and show me what it is to be alive. i want to not let it all ebb away at my love for all that i love. i want to walk down the aisle. i want all that i have. i am afraid but not of what i have, more of what i have to lose. that is no way to live, but i can't help but grasp sometimes. i have so much..

grace

the other day i found an old suitcase in the basement. it was filled with memories of a younger self, a different time. a necklace that represented love, match books i used to light cigarettes with, a notebook with addresses to write home to, a photograph of an old friend and i in our youth, a poem, a train ticket, the sleeve from a mixed tape listing the songs meant to keep me company on the road, vials of essential oils with smells that bring me back. the suitcase itself smells of comfort and memory inside. i'm not sure how it got such a delicate and welcoming smell, all closed up for so long. i'm glad it does.

the mirror built in to the lid of the suitcase is broken and even that is comforting, just knowing that the years of bad luck that might have ensued have long passed. like everything else in the suitcase, any burden it carried has long since subsided. a good reminder in itself.

the memories are sweet. i was alone a lot back then. i kept company with strangers more than friends. strangers became my friends. i played guitar more. i sang more. i wrote more. i timed my days around dusk, rain, meteorites, falling leaves. i was a regular in coffee shops, i was less confident and more wise. i was not afraid and for that, i love that suitcase the most.

and so, the last few days have been to remind me. of letting myself be guided, of finding beauty in the small things, of how beautiful of a life i have been graced to be a part of.

which brings me here, to a new space in my home where i hope to be able to take some of what lives inside my mind and heart and let it have a place outside of me. it is simple and clean and beautiful. it is a blank canvas, minus the intimidation ;)

the wisdom to know the difference

i feel like i break things trying sometimes.