I came up with a bunch of good titles earlier when I was at Whole Foods. Now they’ve disappeared from my head and I’m left with this one. If you didn’t know, Charlotte Sometimes is a song by the Cure. I’m listening to it right now. I feel so tired these days. Sometimes I wish I could take a flight to a beach and lizard on the sand for a couple weeks, renew, become whole again.
Becoming whole again feels like a strange mythical reality to pursue. It’s not impossible though. Reality is constantly shifting on the surface and we learn to move to accommodate it. Wholeness is whatever is left over once that process is complete. I was thinking about the home today and I realized it’s not really a space that creates happiness in as much as it’s a ship, a container to carry us through the unknown seas of life.
I remember when I was young my mom would always say to me “Amber you’re a fighter.” I was always trying to crack myself out of whatever problems had landed at my feet. My ex boyfriend taught me to stop fighting problems and start looking at them. Cradle them in my fingers like a Rubik’s cube begging to be reordered, and spend afternoons trying to do so.
His method worked, I became smarter and my problems lost their complexity and acquired a truth. Lately my new truth seems to be that life is a spiritual journey. I came across a Machiavelli quote that seems to deepen with time “Men judge more by the eye than by the hand, for everyone can see and few can feel.” I keep looking at my life, and on the surface it’s arranged in an uncommon way. But I’m realizing that I didn’t build my life externally, I built it internally. In a strange turn of events, I’ve become the dragon hiding in its lair, surrounded by gold.
a soft death 